


In Search of Warmth

by dreamingofdisaster



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Bisexual Dean Winchester, Dean Has Panic Attacks, Dean has ptsd just warning you, M/M, Overall mental illness between the two of them, Past Child Abuse, Smoking
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-05-17
Updated: 2017-02-22
Packaged: 2018-06-08 22:26:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 16
Words: 35,411
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6876457
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dreamingofdisaster/pseuds/dreamingofdisaster
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dean Winchester is in college, a place he never imagined he would end up. A life he used to know plagues his sleeping hours, and he does his best to forget. </p><p>Castiel and Dean meet, but it's awkward and weird. Something about Cas makes Dean want to know more about him, but can he do that without making Cas think he's just another insensitive prick?</p><p>((hiatus))</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Introduction

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm taking a break from my other fic to just chill out a little. I have some kinks to work out in the other one and I just needed some time to let it simmer. So, this fic was born. Hope you like it! I had fun writing it.

_ Tell me. _

_ Did you ever think it would turn out this way? _

*

Never in Dean’s life did he ever think he would be going to college. The months had dragged on and he’s still here, still waking up in the same bed, staring up at the same ceiling. He’s still doing homework, doing his laundry once a week and working on his car every chance he can get to keep it ship-shape and…

He closes his eyes for a second, blocking out the image of that pristine white ceiling above him. It’s perfect aside from the barely-there scratches and a sticker in the shape of a star covered in paint to blend in. No one else has noticed it, but him. That star, sitting up there for who knows how long. A part of him wonders how long it’s been up there, and another part of him wonders if he’ll ever get to go home. Or, find a place  _to_ call home.

College is his escape, he has to remind himself that every day. Here, he’ll be an upstanding citizen as best he can, he’ll keep his grades decent and won’t get into any kind of trouble. 

He can do that. Yes. He can do that.


	2. Panic is my best friend

_ Did you ever think… it wouldn’t reach this point? _

_ * _

Dean wakes up to someone screaming absolute bloody murder. His heart in his throat, Dean jumps to his feet and reaches for the gun under his pillow that isn’t there. Again, panic going through the roof, and he looks around his room, catching the eye of his roommate, Gabriel. 

They both jump at the same time as another shout rises up, definitely a girl, no… two girls. Definitely. Fighting girls, unfortunately a normal morning for fifth floor.

“Francesca and Maya,” Dean breathes, leaning back to sit on his bed again. He puts his head into his hands for a second, trying to calm his racing heart. 

One helluva way to wake up, that’s for sure. 

He squeezes his eyes tight, the panic not leaving him for a second. As he tries to breathe and he tries to push the racing thoughts out of his mind, it’s not working. None of the usual rituals do the trick.

“Dean…” Gabriel whispers in the quiet, “Are you okay?”

“Fine,” Dean sighs, shaking his head.

He pushes himself to his feet and gets dressed quickly. Putting on old, oil stained jeans and the first semi-clean shirt he sees. He decides last minute to throw on his favorite leather jacket, figuring it’s probably cold outside.

He ignores his roommate as he leaves the room, beelining for the staircase directly in front of the door. All he wants is  _ out out out,  _ and if he’s stopped by one goddamn person he is absolutely going to punch them in the throat. 

Thankfully he’s released into the chill and already the panic is starting to leave. He throws himself down on the steps in front of the building that lead up to the parking lot. The first thing he thinks of to further calm himself down is his desire for a cigarette. 

Grumbling softly to himself, he reaches into the pocket on the inside of his jacket for his lighter and box of cigarettes. Before he can do anything about it, however, something hard hits him in the back.

Following the, what feels like, a bag of potatoes hitting him, something falls over his head with a crash, and a body suddenly lands in his arms. In the process, Dean drops everything he was holding in his hands, coming face to face with someone he’s never met before.

Dean blinks a couple times into the steel blue eyes of the face in front of him, a little too surprised to do much else than that for perhaps far too long.

“You okay?” Dean finds himself asking, a smile growing to his face at the sheer absurdity of the situation. His panic is forgotten and replaced, instead, with embarrassment.

“Y-yeah,” the guy says, turning his head to the left and towards the box he dropped. It doesn’t look broken or damaged in anyway, it’s just a simple cardboard box. 

Without another word the guy pulls out of Dean’s arms, rising to his feet easily. He starts down the stairs, but stops two steps down, only to pick up the lighter and cigarettes. He turns again, holding out the objects to Dean, eyes staring right into his.

“Sorry for walking into you, I should have been watching where I was going,” the mysterious guy says the words softly, much too politely. 

Too kindly, in fact, that all Dean can do at first is take his things back as he is unsure what to reply. It takes another second for Dean to find his voice again, by the time the guy has gone down the steps and turned the box right side up to look at the contents inside. 

He pulls the flaps open, peering into it and shuffling things around. He makes no expression to tell Dean if anything is broken or  _ wrong  _ at all. This makes Dean too curious to stop himself from standing and walking down the couple steps towards him.

“Did anything break?” Dean asks, starting to lean over to look inside. 

Much too quickly, he closes the box and picks it up before Dean can see anything.

“It’s fine,” he answers.

“I’m glad,” Dean nods. “Sorry, you know, for being in your way. Honestly it’s my fault for sitting in a nonsmoking area anyway.”

The guy squints his eyes a little, eyebrows furrowing a bit in Dean’s direction. Does he not understand how an apology works? Or does the guy really think he’s the only one at fault for what happened?

Dean glances away and back again, the silence dragging on along with the guy’s unwavering expression.

“Um, let me get the door for you,” Dean quickly continues in the middle of the awkward moment, reaching for the door.

The guy says nothing and walks through it, to which Dean swipes his I.D. at the next set of doors to unlock them, then opening those doors again for the guy. He doesn’t learn his name until the guy reaches the security desk and tells the monitor he’s moving in from the residence hall across the street, although his I.D. won’t work yet to sign in.

“What’s your name?” The monitor asks, looking at a list.

“Castiel Novak,” the guy answers, almost seeming to hesitate on his last name. Dean pauses when he hears the last name, and he turns to look at him, at  _ Castiel.  _

“You’re all set,” the monitor nods, giving a smile that Castiel doesn’t return.

He turns and starts walking towards the elevator, lowering his eyes when he sees Dean stopped in the middle of the hallway, almost blocking the entry to the elevators themselves. He starts walking the moment Castiel reaches him, so they start walking side by side. They’re silent until they reach the elevator, and Dean pushes the button to call the elevator to them.

“You’re Gabriel’s brother, aren’t you?” Dean asks, turning slightly to see a look that can only be described as shock on Castiel’s face. Despite his seemingly delayed emotional response, he is definitely surprised at Dean’s question. “I’m his roommate, Dean Winchester.”

“Oh,” Castiel visibly gulps. “Yeah, I am.” He pauses, looking down at the box. “This is actually some of his things I found in my stuff, so I’m bringing it to him.”

“You said you’re moving in?” Dean asks as the elevator doors slides open with a shudder and a slam.

“Yeah,” Castiel whispers when they walk in.

“Problems with your old roommate?”

A pause, and Dean looks at Castiel as his hands tighten around the box. Dean slowly presses the fifth floor button, watching as Castiel continues to refuse to look at him.

“Yeah,” he whispers, finally. 

It takes very little time to reach the fifth floor, and then walk down the hall to Dean’s room, which is still unlocked. Thankfully the screaming girls have either left or quieted down for now, so the floor is pretty quiet.

Dean opens the door, leaving it wide for Castiel to follow behind.

“Look who I found,” Dean greets Gabriel, who looks up from his computer at his desk.

Gabriel’s face brightens quickly, and he jumps to his feet to stride towards Castiel, who places the box on the floor. His face seems to crumple a little, the expression only causing Gabriel to throw his arms around Castiel’s neck and hug him tight. Although Dean isn’t one for physical contact or any kind of public displays of affection, he can see Castiel needs that hug, for whatever reason.

As they pull apart, Dean tries to act like he wasn’t staring, although he catches Gabriel putting his hand against Castiel’s cheek for a second. He whispers, kind of soft, something that sounds like,  _ you okay?  _ Although Dean isn’t sure that’s what he actually says. It doesn’t matter anyway, Dean completely turns away and sits at his desk, throwing on his noise cancelling headphones to drown out whatever they need to say in private.

Rather than be forced to listen, especially with how heartbroken Castiel looks, Dean puts on the loudest, most obnoxious playlist he can find. Mostly the songs consist of screamo and whatever metal he  _ can  _ find that isn’t completely annoying. Whatever they have to talk about, Dean doesn’t want to hear it, or at least, doesn’t want Castiel to feel like Dean is listening in on whatever he needs to talk to Gabriel about.

It takes about an hour for them to talk about whatever it is, then Gabriel leaves with Castiel for another two hours. In that time, Dean finishes an online quiz, writes a first draft essay, and starts planning out another essay. He also manages to eat some breakfast along the way, somehow feeling incredibly productive at this moment.

Probably, Dean just doesn’t want to think about whatever it is that could be troubling Castiel. Mysterious and quiet Castiel. His extended silences just make Dean want to ask him a million questions to make him burst with answers, but at the same time Dean wants to fill the silence with his own words, leaving Castiel comfortable and silent. 

The morning drags until Dean almost completely forgets where Gabriel went in the first place, and just then, Gabriel comes back alone.

“Hey, Dean,” Gabriel calls out to him, now without the headphones.

“Hm?” Dean asks, flicking through the assignments listed on his computer.

“Thanks for… being cool,” Gabriel starts. 

The statement makes Dean turn around in his seat to face Gabriel, sitting on the other side of the room in his desk chair. He looks serious, brown eyes trained at the floor for a few seconds before they turn up to look at Dean.

“Did Cas tell you anything?” Gabriel asks, in which Dean notices the nickname, and shakes his head.

“About what? He just said the stuff in the box was for you and he had trouble with his roommate.” Dean pauses, watching Gabriel hesitate. “Is there something else?”

“You know how you…” Gabriel starts, looking away again, “have nightmares, or panic attacks, and loud noises freak you out and--”

“Where are you going with this?” Dean can’t help himself from growling.

“Was your dad abusive?” Gabriel asks quickly. 

Dean blinks three times, not answering quickly enough for Gabriel. He must have seen some look of surprise or shock in  Dean’s face, because he keeps speaking, as if to explain why it is he needs to know the answer to that question.

“You don’t have any pictures of your dad, just your mom and your brother. The guy I thought was your dad is actually your uncle, so I just, you know…” Gabriel trails off.

“Yeah,” Dean whispers, staring down blankly at the floor.

“What?”

“Yes, he abused me and my brother,” Dean flicks his gaze back to Gabriel. “My mom, too, I guess. She died when I was little, I don’t remember much about her.” He frowns down at his hands in his lap, remembering the brief memory of seeing her smile down at him, something his brother would never get to remember. “We moved around a lot as kids, wouldn’t get to eat sometimes… he’d drink a lot and come home…” 

A short sigh leaves Dean’s chest.

“I don’t know, I guess I’m here to get away from him, away from his influence,” Dean finishes, shaking his head gently. He looks back up at Gabriel’s  _ knowing  _ look. “Why?”

A short sigh leaves Gabriel’s nose, his eyes look dead for a moment, sad and empty. Dean knows the answer even before Gabriel decides to speak and answer him.

“Our dad, he uh… I guess that’s what we’re doing here, too. Get away from his influence,” Gabriel nods. “Dear old dad, well… he liked to pick on Cas a bit more than anyone else.”

Dean understands now. Every look, every moment of silence, every turn of Cas’ eyes. Everything. He gets it.

“Dad fooled around a lot, so he has a lot of kids. Cas is the youngest, so we all tried to help the best we could… it just… you know how sometimes, even though you do your best, it’s still not enough?” Gabriel looks right into Dean’s eyes, nodding a little, asking the question although he knows he already understands. 

“Of course,” Dean breathes.

“Every time he hit Cas, it was ‘cause we didn’t get there in time, or we didn’t see, or some other stupid reason…” Gabriel sighs regretfully. “Cas doesn’t like men much, now. Especially ones taller than him. So. Don’t take it personally, if he doesn’t talk or say hi or even look at you. He’s probably scared of you, as much as I hate to say that. I know you’re not a scary person, but he has no idea.”

“I get it,” Dean nods. “Completely. It’s… it’s okay.” 

Gabriel nods back at Dean and lets a little breath out through his lips. He scratches his hair a little, as if thinking. The seconds pass and Dean almost wants to turn back around to look at his assignments once again, but just at that moment, Gabriel looks at him again.

“What’s your brother like? Is he… okay?” The question comes across as off, but Dean understands what he’s trying to ask.

“I got the brunt of it,” Dean answers. “I tried to protect him as much as possible, so I think I got way more of the issues.” Dean smiles as he adds, “plus Sammy’s already way taller than me, so if your plan was to get them to be friends in solidarity, I think it would backfire a little.”

Gabriel smiles, nodding a little. His eyes once again shift away, and Dean takes that as his cue to turn back around. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Some things to mention:   
> I chose to make Castiel and all his brothers have the last name Novak. Just made sense to me, I guess. Gabriel is a year or so older than Dean+Cas, but it's not clear in the fic.  
> Also, I saw a headcanon one time that mentioned John being abusive, so I really played on that, as well as Cas's dad being abusive as well (my own headcanon). I haven't seen the most recent episodes of SPN, although I do know about Chuck. These are just my own thoughts and ideas surrounding the boys, I don't want people to think I hate Chuck or whatever lol
> 
> Also not sure if I got Gabriel's characterization right. Who knows. Let me know if you hate it or love it, I guess? (As well as the whole fic; I would love to hear your input!)


	3. A New Friend

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't think this fic is going to be too many chapters... maybe 30k words... idk, we'll see. Thanks for all the kudos! Enjoy :)

_ Why did it have to be you? _

_ * _

Dean pulls the smoke into his lungs, inhaling the warmth and the ash. The heat that spreads through his chest stays even as he exhales again, letting the white smoke out into the air. The taste of ash in his mouth is thick and lays over his tongue like tar, his teeth dry and no doubt slightly turning yellow from the couple cigarettes he has every day.

It doesn’t help the amount of coffee he intakes every day, and now that he’s taken up smoking, well, that’s not very good either. He knows it. He acknowledges the fact that it’s stupid to try and lay waste to himself like this. 

He turns his head towards the skyline, the mountains where he can see the snow dappled peaks. Despite the comfortable temperature here in the valley, the snow and frost covers the top of the mountains so close by.

Dean puffs on his cigarette and counts back in his head. The last panic attack he had was during the week of that exam, when he had a bunch of work piling up and the stress got to him. Thankfully, that was a few weeks ago. He seems getting better, overall, which is nice.

Being here feels like a vacation, he has to admit. Being in school, getting to worry about shit that’s not his father, or worrying about how his brother is doing (but he still does that from time to time). He  _ loves  _ being able to worry about assignments or teachers or quizes… things normal people are supposed to worry about, and something he’s never been able to worry about before.

He almost wants to cry realizing pretty soon, he’ll have to go home again. At least he’ll be able to go back to Bobby’s, not his dad’s. But maybe he’d be able to stay at school over winter break, and not have to go home at all. Sam doesn't live with Bobby, or John. He lives with some of Bobby's friends overseas, and that lets Sam just be a kid again and not have to worry about anything at all...

Dean’s thoughts fade when footsteps approach, and he turns his head up to see Cas, for some reason, confidently approaching him.

Alright, so his eyes are little twitchy, and his hands are deeply clenched in the pockets of his jacket. The fact of the matter is, he’s approaching Dean at all, which is pretty amazing in his book.

“Hey,” Dean smiles, then offers the cigarette carton from his pocket. “Want one?”

Cas shakes his head, but Dean can see the ghost of a smile play on the corner of his lips. He almost wants to comment on it, but doesn’t. His eyes flick back up to look at Cas in the eyes, only to see him blushing a bit.

_ Cute,  _ Dean thinks, continuing to smile.

“What’s up?” Dean finds himself asking, even though he’s plenty happy just standing here and staring at Cas for awhile.

“Gabe said you’re nice and I should talk to you if I see you,” Cas says carefully. “So, this is me talking to you.”

“Well done,” Dean nods, trying not to laugh at Cas’ forwardness. He knows Cas won’t keep talking unless Dean initiates something, so he starts by asking a question that he’s been wondering for awhile. “What’s your major?”

“Undeclared,” Cas shrugs.

“Me, too,” Dean nods back. “I’m just kind of taking everything right now. Core classes and shit. Guessing you’re doing the same?”

Cas nods, seeming to relax a little now that Dean is asking him simple questions. It’s not like he minds at all, quite the opposite. There are very few times when Dean can remember where he has been allowed to just  _ talk,  _ but as soon as he realizes that, he wonders if Cas has felt the same. Being as quiet as he is, Dean wonders if all Cas does is listen to people talk, and not get the chance to speak when he wants to.

“What are your favorite classes?” Dean asks, leaning back against the stone wall that encloses the smoking only area in front of the campus center. 

“I like art,” Cas answers. “It’s the only thing I’m good at.”

“I’m sure that’s not true,” Dean says before he can stop himself. Cas answers with a shrug, which just makes Dean keep talking. “I’d love to see some of your art sometime. What do you like to do?”

“Draw, mostly,” Cas whispers. He blushes again, like he’s never been asked in such detail of what his favorite thing is. “I’m taking intro to painting this semester, though. I really like it.”

“What are you working on in class now?”

“We’re recreating a piece by Inness,” Cas says, then looks away when he probably realizes Dean has no idea what he’s talking about. “Um,” he picks his phone out of his pocket and looks for a second, then turns the phone towards Dean. “The bottom one is mine and the top is the real one.”

“Woah, holy shit,” Dean breathes without being able to stop himself.

He stares at the image in front of him, seeing two paintings slightly larger than a postcard on what looks like a piece of canvas. They’re both the same image, almost  _ exactly  _ the same. It’s a farm scene, with a view of the sky, rolling orange and blue clouds filling the sky like the beginning of a storm. 

Dean can’t stop staring and breathing out awed swears for at least a minute. He never realized before that Cas is a  _ fucking artist  _ and looks like it, too _.  _ Now that he knows that, he can literally  _ see it  _ in Cas. That artist-like gaze he seems to have when he stares at people a little too long, studying them like he’s wondering how he would draw them or paint them. Is that why he stares so much? When his eyes are flicking all over Dean’s face, is he wondering how the pencil would feel in his hand as he glides it over the paper?

“Dude, this is fucking amazing,” Dean says, handing the phone back. “You’re seriously good, I can’t believe it.”

Cas blushes bright red as he puts the phone back into his pocket, one shoulder coming up in a little shrug. Knowing that self-conscious look, Dean resolves to compliment Cas as often as he can on his art. Maybe eventually he’ll realize how good he actually is, and be able to acknowledge it a little more easily.

Before Dean can say anymore about how  _ amazing  _ Cas is, Dean’s phone vibrates in his pocket. It’s Gabe, asking if he wants to get dinner with him.

“Hey, have you eaten dinner yet?” He asks Cas, to which Cas hesitates and then shakes his head. “Do you wanna go to the caf with Gabe and me?”

“Sure,” Cas nods, seeming a bit more confident to accept hearing Gabriel is going to be there. 

Dean doesn’t mind at all to see how much more open and confident Cas is around Gabriel. He likes seeing that, despite knowing that Cas isn’t  _ that  _ confident around anyone, not even Gabriel. There’s this level of confidence he hits when he’s around Gabriel, but it’s not 100%. He gets to a point where his self-assurance hits a bar and it goes no higher. 

Throughout dinner, Dean notices how Gabriel talks to Cas, or, more like, how he doesn’t talk to Cas at all. Gabriel rarely seems to talk to Cas, but if he does, it’s rarely about anything Cas is interested in. It’s indirectly, like he doesn’t care, or maybe he just cares about other things.

This happens again, later. Days pass and over the course of many conversations, Dean notices where Gabriel will ask Cas how he’s doing, but no more than that. 

It happens often, and Cas is silent for most conversations, merely like he's only observing. Dean often tries to bring up a topic that Cas will be interested in, but he rarely takes the bait. It’s almost like he’s used to being quiet, which Dean guesses is the case, and he doesn’t want to inconvenience anyone by speaking. Dean sees it more and more as often as they see each other, just not alone.

The chance comes on a Wednesday night when Gabriel is at his night class. Dean is in the room with the door wide open, soft music in the background, and he sits at his desk, typing an essay. 

The elevator doors slam closed with a clang, and footsteps start down the hall. The sound gets closer until it hesitates and stops right outside Dean’s door, and of course, when he turns, he sees Cas.

Dean smiles a little when he sees him, happy to see that Cas gives a smile back, even though it’s a little sheepish.

“Is Gabe around?” Cas asks, and Dean spots the notebook and textbook in his hands as he shakes his head.

“He’s got class right now,” Dean replies, seeing how Cas deflates when he hears that. “Anything I can help you with?”

“Um, just math,” Cas says, fingers tightening on his books. “Algebra. Usually Gabe helps me with stuff I don’t get; I’m not very good, so…” 

“Hey, I can help,” Dean smiles. “I’m pretty decent at math.”

“It’s okay, you seem really busy,” Cas shakes his head.

“I’m not, honestly. And I don’t mind, since I’m free.” Dean pauses, then gestures to his bed directly beside him. “Take a seat, show me what you’re working on.”

As far as math goes, Dean considers it to be pretty simple, however he quickly realizes Cas must have missed out on some basic lessons in high school, possibly middle school as well. He doesn’t know his time tables, nor does he understand the basic order of which one does equations (ex: PEMDAS). It’s like he skipped entire grades not having to take any kind of math class.

Cas gets easily frustrated, which Dean understands immensely. Him being so art inclined probably makes him feel even worse about not understanding math that other people think is easy. He probably spent a million hours only doing art related projects when he got frustrated with math, since art is something he seems to really enjoy, he probably picked that over a lot of things he could’ve gotten good at. 

After Dean explains different problems a couple times in a few different ways, Cas seems to begin to understand a lot more. He has to do the same type of problem about four times to really understand it, all while Dean talks him through all the steps. Constant praise seems to really help him, too. A lot of, “you’re gettin’ it” and “you know this” and “good job.”

“How are you so good at math?” Cas asks softly after they get through at least ten problems of the  _ actual  _ problems he’s supposed to be doing. They did a lot of practice to start with.

“I’m mostly just good at algebra,” Dean replies, shrugging a little. “My dad was gone a lot and forgot to feed us, so I’d take his checkbook and buy us food. So that just meant I had to balance his checkbook, make sure he could pay the rent and stuff and we could still get food. Once I went to school and started learning algebra I realized it was pretty similar to keeping track of money and doing other stuff I had to do anyway.”

Dean looks at Cas, who is frowning at him.

“Your dad wasn’t around?” He asks, pained when he asks the question.

“I mean, he was, sometimes,” Dean shrugs again. “He was just gone an awful lot more, it seemed like. My mom died when I was little, so when that happened he got super religious and he wanted to travel and do all these God-related things that he couldn’t take us to. He wanted to find himself and save my mom, even though she was already gone…” Dean trails off, unsure of why exactly he started telling all this to Cas.

“I don’t know,” Dean continues. “He wasn’t around, but I think it was kind of better that way. When he  _ was  _ around, it was a helluva lot worse than it was when he wasn’t there at all. I definitely preferred him not being there, starving or not.”

“Didn’t DCF try and take you away from him?” Cas whispers, like he’s surprised such a thing could happen to someone. The question just makes Dean smile.

“I mean, sure,” Dean shrugs. “But we always came right back. I could never convince anyone that my dad was a terrible human being that didn’t deserve children, let alone be allowed to have them and beat them whenever he wanted.” Dean scoffs a little, the anger from years ago coming back in full throttle. “Y’know, since my mom wasn’t alive, and it was just my dad and my brother and me, we couldn’t go anywhere else. My uncle isn’t even my blood uncle, just a guy my dad knew years ago.”

“He still counts though,” Cas says softly.

“I know he does,” Dean assures him, nodding. “It eventually worked out, and Sam got adopted by some friends of my uncle’s and taken away... He’s safe, y’know? It’s fine. Everything is in the past and it’s done with.”

The silence surrounds them heavily. The weight of it rests on Dean’s shoulders, making him feel small, like a child. He can feel the tightening of his chest and he knows he’s not over it, not over all the hell his father put them through over the years. 

He’s just angry. That’s the only way he can describe the feeling inside of him, bursting at the seams. He’s fucking angry, at everyone, but mostly his father. Out of everyone and everything he could possibly be angry at, it’s always his dad. He deserves the anger, he deserves the hatred. He doesn’t deserve any kind of forgiveness.

Dean looks over at Cas, who’s since stopped writing in his notebook. He wants to tell Cas to keep working, but there’s this look in Cas’ eyes that says Dean shouldn’t say anything. He wants to, though. He wants to break the silence, break this  _ moment,  _ whatever it is.

“I never thought…” Cas starts, his eyes turning away for a second. He thinks, then speaks again.

“I never thought someone else could have similar experiences to me,” Cas shakes his head gently. He looks conflicted, his arms tightening around himself. “My dad didn’t live with me and my mom, but he still made our lives miserable.”

His hand clenches his jacket sleeve, the fabric bursting between his fingers. It took a lot of effort to say the things he is, Dean knows that.

“My older brothers came around a lot more when they realized dad was hitting me and mom, but it didn’t always help. Sometimes it just made it worse. It made him more angry and if I didn’t do what he wanted, it would just get worse.” Cas shakes his head, his breath coming out pained and fast. Was it a panic attack, or just fear making him breathe hard? Dean isn’t sure, and he waits for Cas to keep talking.

“He rarely hit my mom,” Cas whispers, gulping a little. “It was always me.”

“Why?” Dean asks before he can stop himself.

“He hates me ‘cause I’m different,” Cas shakes his head, his teary eyes looking up at Dean. “I’ve always been different and weird. He never liked my drawings or the mess I made when I was painting, or anything I did. Nothing was good enough and he made sure that I knew it.”

“You are good enough,” Dean tells him. “You’re a great person. You’re amazing.”

Cas looks at him like he doesn’t believe him, but that was to be expected, Dean knows. There were a few more instances before this one, where Dean had complimented him, like when he saw the painting he recreated, and other times when Dean knew Cas deserved to get a praise. 

Cas is the type of guy that needs compliments, despite not believing them. He deserves as many compliments as Dean can think of, which happens to be a lot.

“Why do you do that?” Cas whispers.

“Do what?” Dean shakes his head, not understanding what Cas means, especially with the deep frown etched on his face.

“Compliment me,” Cas says, seemingly offended. That only makes Dean smile.

“‘Cause I want to,” Dean replies, still grinning. “I like giving you compliments. It makes me feel good to acknowledge how I feel about you.”

“How do you feel about me?” Cas shakes his head, his eyes still full of confusion.

“You’re my friend,” Dean shrugs. “I like you. I think you’re cool.”

Cas makes a disgusted face, which only makes Dean burst out in laughter. It takes a second for him to calm his laughter, and in that time, Gabriel steps into the doorway, his face full of smiles when he sees Cas there.

For some reason, when Dean turns to Cas after saying hi to Gabriel, Cas’ lips tighten, and he looks uncomfortable. This thought only confirms itself, when Cas excuses himself to do the rest of his homework, and leaves without another word.

Gabriel doesn’t think this is weird at all, he just says goodbye to Cas and keeps talking to Dean like nothing is wrong. He does stop after a bit when he sees Dean isn’t replying to him at all or really even reacting to what he’s saying.

“You okay?” Gabriel asks with an uncomfortable kind of chuckle.

“Um,” Dean frowns, then looks up at Gabriel, watching him walk over to shut the door. “Just… Cas, he…” Dean struggles for the word. “He seemed weird just now, when you came back. I don’t know.”

Gabriel laughs softly, which only makes Dean more confused than before.

“He likes you, that’s all,” Gabriel answers. “Over the past couple weeks he’s gotten to know you a bit better, so he probably is starting to trust you and wants to know you better. When he gets close to someone, he always thinks his brothers are gonna stop him from being friends with them. That’s how it always is.”

“What do you mean?” Dean shakes his head.

“He isolates himself, he doesn’t have any friends except family, or close family friends,” Gabriel explains, moving to sit in Dean’s desk chair in front of his bed. “This has happened before. He wants to be friends with someone, but he acts like he doesn’t so me or the rest of our brothers don’t do anything about it. He acts indifferent about you in front of us, but when you get alone he really opens up. It happens every time.”

“Weird,” Dean replies softly. 

He isn’t quite sure what to say in response to that, wondering if that’s only because Cas has a history of abuse and he just doesn’t want to show that he cares about something or someone. Maybe his father used to take away the things he loved just to hurt him. That’s probably why he has a tough time trusting people, especially his family, or new people.

Dean finds himself thinking about Cas and his mannerisms late into the night, just before he falls asleep. The sound of rain pattering on his windowsill late into the night makes him calm and unafraid to let his mind wander. 

His mind has already memorized the curve of Cas’ lips as he forms one of his barely-there smiles. A smile that says he doesn’t want you to know he’s amused, because he almost doesn’t want to admit that is. Dean loves the way his eyes twitch down when he makes one of those smiles, like he’s checking to make sure it’s okay to smile.

Dean falls asleep thinking of Cas’ lips. Too delighted with the thought of seeing him smile or laugh that he doesn’t mind thinking about it at all.


	4. A Night That's Something Else

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry it took so long posting this. I've been in another plane of existence trying not to die a horrible death of anxiousness. On that note, please enjoy this long awaited chapter.

_ It turned out this way because of you. _

 

*

 

Dean squats in front of the wall of the smoking area, his back gently leaning against the rough concrete. He can feel his heart in his throat as he tries to breathe, yet desperately wants to stop at the same time, his mind going a million miles an hour as he tries to calm himself down.

His fingers shake as he tries to light his cigarette, but can’t steady his hand enough to even flick the wheel, despite having done this a million times before. 

“Fucking dammit!” He groans, throwing both of the objects onto the ground. He loses his balance at the same time and his butt hits the ground hard, his back hitting the wall at the same time. He places his head into his hands, trying to calm his aching lungs as the panic just barely starts to subside.

“Need any help?” A voice asks, and Dean looks up to just about the only person he could possibly stand right now.

He stares at Cas for a second, then looks blankly down at the cigarette and lighter laying on the dirty concrete ground.

“Can you just sit with me for a second?” Dean asks, not wanting to look at Cas and see any emotions cross his face, good or bad. He’d rather hear the disgust than see it.

“Sure,” Cas answers, walking around to his right side and plopping down. He doesn’t even say anything, he just sits there, waiting. Or maybe not. He simply sits, just as Dean asked him to do.

Silence passes on, and neither of them say anything for awhile. Dean begins to calm down, which is good, and by the time he thinks of something to say, he doesn’t feel the need to smoke anymore.

“I had a nightmare,” Dean says, as by way of explanation of his panic attack and his frustration. “It was about my brother, and my dad. He tried to take him away or something. By the time I woke up I was already freaking out, and it doesn’t help that the girls on my floor started to scream again, which just makes me panic more… then my brother didn’t answer when I called, and my uncle didn’t either… I knew he was fine but…”

Dean trails off, his body tired and restless. He can still feel the adrenaline, ready to start pumping again as a result of his fear and panic.

“But you know they’re okay,” Cas whispers gently to him. “They’d probably love to hear from you, though. When was the last time you spoke to them?”

“Last week,” Dean answers, thinking of the phone calls, remembering Sam’s voice and how excited he was about something going on in school. 

“That’s not bad,” Cas replies. 

Dean nods gently, exhaustion pulling at his eyelids. He feels sick, tired. All he wants to do is sleep for three years. That would make him feel better, but the nightmares that constantly plague his mind would make it difficult to sleep for very long. Usually he’s okay when he sleeps  _ with  _ someone, but that’s always a weird request, especially when he doesn’t ask for anything else in return. Most of the girls he would call usually want to have sex with him, and he’s definitely not in the mood.

“You okay?” Cas asks softly, his voice curious and full of sympathy. 

“I’m  _ so  _ tired, Cas,” Dean whispers, lean his head into his hand. “I thought I was doing better, but over the last few weeks I’ve barely been sleeping, and having panic attacks… It just fucking sucks.”

“Have you tried going to counseling?”

“No, I’ve been meaning to,” Dean shrugs, unsure of how to tell Cas that he’s terrified to go. He’s terrified of therapy, terrified they’ll tell him something is seriously wrong with him. Or even tell him he’s exactly like his father, or will become just like that one day.

“Why don’t you?” Cas whispers.

Dean shrugs again, lowering his hand from his face. He blinks a couple times down at the concrete, struggling to think of a response that wouldn’t make Cas urge him to go right at this moment. Rather than say anything more, Cas actually reaches out and puts a hand on Dean’s shoulder.

The suddenness of the contact makes Dean relax, and turn to look at Cas at last. His stormy eyes stare deep into Dean’s, unwavering for a moment, until Dean finds himself looking at Cas’ lips. He stares too long, before looking back up at Cas’ eyes again. He feels Cas’ hand moving up his shoulder, fingers grazing the back of his hair. 

A blush fills Cas’ face, like has no idea what he’s doing or why he’s doing it. His hand moves and his thumb caresses Dean’s jaw. 

Every cell in Dean is urging him to lean forwards and kiss Cas, or touch his hand or arm or  _ anything,  _ and tell Cas that he wants this. He definitely wants this, whatever it is, it feels right and easy.

Before either of them can move an inch further, Dean’s phone starts ringing loudly in his pocket, breaking them apart from this calm moment they shared. 

Dean sighs, probably a little loudly, and reaches for it as Cas pulls away. He seems a bit more flustered and embarrassed, now being caught and interrupted. Less nervous, and now that he’s anxiously wringing his hands, Dean almost doesn’t want to answer his phone. He sees it’s Sam, however, and sighs again.

“Sorry,” Dean quickly says to Cas, who nods.

Dean accepts the call and talks to Sam for awhile. In that time, Cas leaves him, giving him a little wave, despite Dean not wanting him to leave. He watches him go anyway, resolving to talk to him later, when he’ll be able to speak to him  _ not  _ in public. 

Throughout the conversation with Sam, Dean almost forgets exactly why he wants to talk to Cas, or even that he does at all. The two hour long conversation with Sam, followed by dinner, it’s nearly four hours later, by the time Dean comes back to the dorms and realizes he wants to see Cas again.

Before he forgets  _ again,  _ he presses the seventh floor button in the elevator, bringing him to the top floor and to Cas’ floor. He’d never been to Cas’ room before now, but he knows where it’ll be, at the very end of the hall. 

Cas is in a single, because of whatever problems he had with his roommate before, now he doesn’t want to room with anyone else. Being as quiet as Cas is, Dean is surprised it took him halfway through the semester to figure that out.

With a quick knock on the door, Dean hears movement after a short hesitation. The bed squeaks as Cas rises to his feet, and his bare feet smack the tile as he walks forward. The door opens slowly, and Dean is greeted by a sleepy looking Cas, as if he had just woken up from a nap.

“Did I wake you up?” Dean asks, unable to keep himself from smiling and Cas’ now surprised expression.

“Yeah, but that’s okay,” Cas blushes, and then awkwardly gestures into the room. “Do you want to come in?”

“Sure,” Dean nods, stepping in. 

He takes in the room quickly, walking in towards the middle of his room, where he can see the bed pressed up against the window on the other side. The desk stands immediately to his right with the wardrobe on the left. Everything has a color scheme of beige and brown. A little boring, but it seems practical, more than anything.

Dean turns around and looks at Cas, who looks back at him. His eyes stare at him, unwavering and staring as they have always done. 

“Fuck it,” Dean breathes, closing the gap of the few feet between them.

His stride brings him right in front of Cas, and his lips press immediately against his. Dean’s fingers find Cas’ cheek to bring him in, to keep his lips right there against his. Unable to keep himself from gasping, Cas does just that as he stumbles into Dean, his fingers finding Dean’s waist as a handhold. 

Dean can feel Cas’ breath against his face, and the heat of his mouth against his. He feels an intensity in him, like if he doesn’t kiss Cas now and make it amazing, he’ll never be able to do so again. Cas matches the intensity, one hand finding Dean’s cheek to pull him close just as Dean is doing back at him. 

It takes what feels like hours until Dean very slowly separates his lips from Cas’, but keeping his forehead against his for another second to further calm their breathing. Dean opens his eyes and watches Cas take him in, eyes searching Dean’s gaze, as if to ask him if that, all of it, was just a lie.

“I’m glad I wasn’t misreading anything,” Cas breathes, fingers of one hand moving so they rest against Dean’s chest. Dean keeps his own hand against Cas’s cheek, rubbing his thumb into Cas’ jawline, feeling the barely-there stubble and remembering how it felt to kiss Cas and feel the way his stubble scraped his lips.

“Me, too,” Dean whispers, not wanting to step away.

“This is a weird question,” Cas starts, speaking quickly, “you can say no if you want. But, do you wanna lay down and possibly just make out for awhile?”

Dean grins, pulling away only to gesture to the bed.

“Lead the way,” he murmurs, smiling as Cas does, still flustered and giggly. 

Cas walks towards the bed, and Dean follows, watching Cas climb onto the bed which was raised up higher than Dean’s waist. He easily climbs onto the bed after Cas, knee landing just on one side of Cas’ waist, and his face leaning into him again.

Once again, Cas gasps the moment their lips connect, his lips capturing Dean’s in just the right way. Cas curls his fingers around Dean’s jaw, pulling him in and keeping him there as the temperature in the room seems to rise all at once.

Cas is breathing hard against Dean’s face, so Dean pulls away only to press kisses into his neck, to nip gently at his skin and make Cas dig his fingers into Dean’s hair. His gentle sighs make Dean go slower, no longer wanting anything more sexual to come out of this, but only to be with Cas and make him blush as often as he can.

Dragging his nose along Cas’ cheek, Dean finds his lips again and lowers himself down onto the bed, only to lay beside Cas, rather than on top of him. Dean wraps his hand over Cas’ waist, accidentally finding skin where Cas’ shirt had rolled a little, exposing his stomach. 

With Cas now hooking his leg around Dean’s legs, Dean finds himself growing a little too comfortable, almost sleepy, with how they now kiss each other lazily. Dean stops, only to smile, his fingers gently pressing into Cas’ skin along his waist.

“What?” Cas asks, voice soft.

“I like kissing you,” Dean replies. “I’m just getting tired.”

“So, stay,” Cas answers. “Take a nap with me.”

Dean laughs softly, and pushes his face into the crook of Cas’ neck. He tries to pull Cas close, but he pushes him away, just for a second, to pull the blankets over them. The scent of Cas envelopes Dean, making him comfortable and immensely sleepy. 

It doesn’t take very long for the both of them to drift off, until every now and then Cas moves in his sleep and makes Dean wake up. He always ends up falling back asleep, however, and when he does wake up again, this time for real, he sees that he became the big spoon some time in the night, but Cas had turned around in his sleep to face Dean.

He opens his eyes to early morning light streaming in through the window, and a tuft of black hair right in his face, and the sleeping face of Cas right in front of his gaze. It takes a few minutes for Dean to even remember where he is, or what happened last night, almost forgetting that it’s Cas’ bed he slept in until morning. 

When he does finally recall, he only smiles, rubbing his hand over Cas’s arm that lay curled towards his chest, as well as pressing his lips into Cas’ forehead. This small act makes Cas wake up, his eyes blinking open rapidly, eyes still unfocused and sleepy. He does see that it’s Dean, finally, and he smiles, eyes closing again.

“Did you have good dreams?” Cas asks, his voice scratchy with sleep.

“I didn’t have any,” Dean answers, realizing the moment he says it that it’s true. It’s always nice having no dreams, always nice sleeping with someone he likes to keep the nightmares at bay. “I didn’t mean to fall asleep for real,” he adds softly. “Sorry for staying all night.”

“I don’t mind,” Cas shakes his head, his hand reaching out to wrap around Dean’s waist. The touch is comforting, and makes Dean sigh.

A few more seconds of laziness passes before Dean realizes something, and his eyes open as he thinks of a way to articulate the sudden fear coursing through him.

“Um,” Dean says, but then doesn’t say anymore.

“What?” Cas snorts, pulling back to look at Dean.

“Is Gabe gonna be pissed at me?” He frowns deep and looks at Cas, who frowns back, eyebrows pinching together.

“Why would he be pissed at you?” Cas shakes his head a little, not understanding.

“Well,” Dean laughs, “I really like his brother.”

“Oh,” Cas blushes deep, looking away. His fingers tighten on Dean’s waist, but his expression tells Dean that he’s considering the statement. 

“I don’t know what he’ll  _ say,”  _ Cas says after awhile. “But I don’t think he’ll be mad at you.”

Dean sighs, nodding as he hugs Cas again, pulling him close to his chest. The sigh comes from deep in his chest, a release of relief that leaves his lungs slowly. Already Dean is thinking of ways to tell Gabriel what went on tonight (although, in retrospect, practically nothing). He’s also thinking of ways to “break the news” about him and Cas, although… nothing really happened, so does that mean they’re nothing? Maybe Dean should ask him out.

“Cas,” Dean whispers, to which Cas replies with a sleepy groan sound. Assuming that’s a positive answer to keep talking, Dean continues with, “do you want to go out with me?”

“Like a real date?” Cas asks, “not just making out and then falling asleep?”

“Yes, like a real date,” Dean grins. “Unless you wanna just make out a bunch more, that’s okay too--”

Cas moves his head up towards Dean, lips clumsily moving against the general area of his lips until they find each other. Cas is leaning up a bit on his elbow, his leg randomly thrown over Dean’s thigh, and his hand pressing his fingertips into Dean’s chest. Dean captures Cas’ cheek, moving his fingers through until he grabs Cas’ hair in just the right way that makes Cas slow how his lips are moving against Dean’s.

Moving his leg over Dean’s torso so he can straddle him, Cas leans in close. Cas’ hot mouth makes it easy for Dean to forget the uncomfortable tightness in his jeans, and the fact that he’s wearing  _ jeans  _ at all. Cas is wearing pants too, so it’s not that weird, just annoying. They’re wearing too many clothes, too early in the morning.

“Dean,” Cas whispers, pulling away just a few inches. 

“Cas,” Dean replies, which just makes Cas blush brighter, if that’s even possible. Dean does notice the way Cas is hard, too. The sweatpants he’s wearing just makes it a bit easier to tell.

As he sits up, Dean pushes his hands out gently, only to push Cas backwards, landing on the bed with a bounce. Dean pulls away, only to pull off his shirt and throw it onto the floor, unable to help but notice the way Cas is looking at him, watching him. Cas is breathing hard, but Dean knows he’s not scared at all.

This only confirms itself when Cas rises up on his knees to meet him, pulling off his shirt, barely even getting it completely off before his lips are on Dean’s. When one of his hands gets completely free, Cas presses it to Dean’s chest, dragging his fingertips over his skin where the muscles just barely designate themselves. As he studies his muscles a bit with the tips of his fingers, he moves down until his fingers graze the top of his pants, and while he keeps kissing Dean, his fingers navigate the zip.


	5. Knew It

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Still having a rough time but I've been writing a little bit, so I thought I'd upload another chapter. Writing is the only thing I really enjoy anymore so I thought I should continue to post some chapters since I've had these couple of stories hanging out for awhile. Enjoy xx

_ We could’ve been great, you and me. _

 

_ * _

  
  


By the time Dean makes it back to his room, it’s only when he knows Gabriel won’t be there. He takes a shower and then does some homework. He keeps getting distracted, wondering what the hell he’s going to tell Gabriel, and in a way that won’t make him mad. It’s his baby brother, for Pete’s sake,  _ plus  _ they have a million other brothers who can seriously hurt him if they don’t approve. Chances are, some of them won’t, but he really doesn’t want to get beat up for having sex with Cas.

“Totally worth it,” Dean mumbles to himself, deciding he can’t help smiling as he remembers it. 

Even laying with him afterwards was great, Dean has to admit. Seeing Cas sleepy again, but this time for a different reason,  _ god, was that adorable.  _ His eyes all small as he tries to stay awake, blinking slowly and eventually closing. Dean made sure not to leave when Cas was asleep, and it was definitely hard to leave at all.

The door suddenly clicks open behind him, and Dean surprises himself by  _ not  _ jumping. He honestly thought he would, but he finds himself being amazingly normal as Gabriel comes into the room and says hello.

Of course, it’s another five to ten minutes before Dean can even approach the subject that he really needs to talk to Gabriel about.

“Hey, so,” Dean starts, turning around in his seat to look at Gabriel, who sits on the other side in his seat.

“So…” Gabriel answers.

“So, hypothetically speaking,” Dean starts, avoiding Gabriel’s gaze for a second before flicking his eyes back. “If say, like, Cas and I started dating, would that be okay? Or would you like sic all your brothers on me and like really fuck me up?”

Gabriel frowns, looking absolutely bewildered, before cracking up. He smacks a hand over his face, snorting as he does so, as if the sheer absurdity of the question is enough to just  _ laugh.  _ Dean isn’t sure if it’s because of the phrasing of the question, or the question itself. He resolves to wait for the pain, should it come.

“First of all,” Gabriel starts, pointing a finger at Dean. “You suck at asking for permission. Secondly, I was fucking  _ waiting  _ for this to happen. And thirdly, half of our brothers don’t even know Cassie is gay, let alone no longer a virgin. So if you had to worry about  _ anyone,  _ it wouldn’t be me.”

“Who would I have to worry about?” Dean grimaces, almost afraid to ask.

“Probably Lucy,” Gabriel says a little too fast, sporting a grimace of his own. “Possibly Anna, maybe Nate. Um, wow. Probably a lot of them, actually…”

“That doesn’t make me feel any better about knowing your family can probably seriously hurt me,” Dean frowns, trying not to get wide-eyed at Gabriel’s answer.

“As long as you don’t hurt Cas, you’ll be fine,” Gabriel shakes his head, smiling at Dean although not that reassuringly. “But seriously, don’t hurt him.”

“I won’t,” Dean shakes his head, not even because of the fear of his family, but the mere idea of hurting Cas makes his heart hurt.

“So, when are you going to pop the question?” Gabriel’s question almost makes Dean jump, because, well…

“Next time I see him,” Dean answers easily, turning around in his seat again. He really hopes Gabriel doesn’t realize, hey, uh, they sort of already are going out? Kind of. They’re lovers? That’s still a thing people say, right?

Dean finds himself smiling, even though he’s staring at a word document with half an essay about the American railroad. Being lovers. That has a nice ring to it, despite wanting to be more than just that. 

He almost forgets that they are sort of dating, throughout the day and all his homework assignments remind him how busy he is. It isn’t until dinner when Gabriel and Dean are walking into the food court for dinner and they see Cas by the drinks. 

As he walks up, Dean tries not to remember Cas naked, he tries not to remember kissing him, feeling him gasp against his cheek… It was seriously hard not to remember all of that, and it seems Cas is having a hard time forgetting, too. 

Cas smiles at Dean, biting his lip a little as he approaches.

“So, I talked to your brother,” Dean tells him, and when Cas nods slowly, Dean continues. “He’s not pissed at me,” Dean smiles, “he actually said he was  _ waiting  _ for us to get together, so…”

“So, nothing to worry about,” Cas offers, turning the cup up to his lips.

Dean laughs gently and nods, wondering if Gabriel needs to know about last night. He would surely ask where Dean was, right? That hadn’t happened yet. He probably won’t. It’s fine, don’t worry about it. Nothing to worry about.

He keeps repeating this mantra throughout dinner and yet despite that, he still finds himself walking towards the smoking area after dinner. He tells his friends to go on without him, which Gabriel follows, but Cas ends up following him anyway. 

Not like Dean minds.

He lights up while he’s walking, and shoves the lighter and box into his jacket pocket. He glances over at Cas while they walk, and he watches him tighten his fists at his sides. It makes Dean frown and reach over to take his hand, which just makes Cas smile back at him, a second after, Dean smiles back.

Walking up the steps to the smoking area, and pulling warmth into his lungs, he can’t help feeling weighted down in a weird way. His lungs feel heavy, his chest and his stomach. Rocks pile up in his belly, it makes it hard to breathe when normally while he’s smoking, it feels easier to do just that.

Dean releases Cas’ fingers, only to act like it was for the reason of pulling the cigarette from his lips as he leans his back against the wall. 

“You know how parents’ weekend is coming up soon?” Dean asks, and Cas only frowns for a second before nodding. “Is any of your family coming up?”

A big, almost nervous smile fills Cas’ face, his eyes shifting away as he thinks for a moment, then looks back up at Dean.

“Probably just my brother, Lucifer,” Cas says softly, then quickly, as Dean frowns deep, “um, we don’t call him that, though. We call him Lucy. He’s really not that bad.”

“Right,” Dean smiles, trying to ignore the memory of Gabriel telling him that Lucy is one of the one’s he has to worry about.

“He’s really nice, at least to me. He’s the oldest, next to Michael. They all hate our dad, but Lucy hates him the most,” Cas whispers, shrugging a little. He’s never spoken about his dad to Dean before, so Dean nods in reply, not speaking at first. “You said your dad was pretty awful to you and your brother, right?”

Dean nods slowly, forgetting about the cigarette in his fingers. He can only watch Cas and see him open up to him.

“My dad was kind of the same,” Cas says softly, his gaze directed at the cigarette in Dean’s fingers. Cas presses the fingers of his right hand over Dean’s knuckles, dragging his fingers gently over his skin, but avoiding the cigarette between his fingers. “My brothers tried to protect me like you did for Sam, but, y’know.” Cas shrugs, then says even more softly, “I don’t think they ever had panic attacks for not being able to get to me in time.”

Forgetting his voice, Dean reaches his left hand out to touch Cas’ elbow. He doesn’t know what to say, not at first. Nothing comes to mind, and no sound escapes his mouth, although Cas doesn’t seem to mind at first. He only looks at Dean, watching his eyes search his, watching him think and process what he’s said.

“Did you ever lose track of your dad? And he got to your brother before you could?” Cas murmurs, the question a little less directed at Dean, and more directed at no one in particular, just a thought to himself. Dean answers regardless.

“A few times,” Dean nods, the weight in his stomach moving to his throat, making it tight and even harder to breathe. “Every time it happened, I prayed to god it wouldn’t happen again, but… You know life doesn’t work that way.”

Cas keeps his head turned down at Dean’s hand, where the cigarette still burns red, the embers like glitter in the fading light. Before he speaks his next question, Dean expects it. He knows exactly what Cas is going to say before he probably does.

“Why do you smoke?” He whispers, eyes turning up to look at Dean again.

“I like the warmth,” Dean answers, saying it much too easily, as if he’s thought about it before. “I don’t know if I’m addicted to them yet, but… That’s what I like about them. The heat. Like I’m burning from the inside out.”

He pulls his hand away from Cas, only to put the stick between his lips and pull. The heat that fills his lungs feels heavier, only because now he knows he’s being judged for what he’s feeling. It hurts more than it should.

He lets out the smoke through his nose, and for a moment, he believes Cas is going to walk away from him. The thought comes and goes quickly, for in the next second, Cas steps forwards and presses his lips to Dean’s. 

Cas hovers his hand over Dean’s jaw, his palm coming down to press against his skin only after he pulls away. His bright eyes stare at him, right into Dean’s eyes and hold his gaze there. 

“What was that for?” Dean murmurs, not wanting Cas to pull away.

“For being honest with me,” Cas whispers right back. “And for… not treating me like I’m breakable.” Cas tries to smile, and fails, the corners of his mouth falling as soon as they rise. “You treat me like a human being and I almost don’t understand why.”

“You’re my friend,” Dean says a little too quickly, and then smiles right after. “Well, maybe something a little more than that. But… I was your friend first. That’s all I ever wanted to be, but it turned into something more...  _ wonderful _ than that.”

The smile returns to Cas’ lips, and too quickly, he leans in for a deeper kiss. Their teeth clack for a split second before they readjust themselves, and their lips connect. Dean forgets where they are for a second, and his tongue darts from his mouth to tap against Cas’ lips.

Again, Cas smiles a little, but refuses Dean’s tongue. Dean almost wants to laugh, but manages to hold it in, and keeps kissing Cas as he’s grown to love to do. It feels easy to fall into a trap of being perfectly comfortable with Cas, to trust him more than anyone else he’s ever known.

Dean thinks about that as their lips slowly pull apart. He feels drawn to Cas in a strange way, a pull that keeps him right in front of Cas and never want to stray far from his side. It’s not like that brotherly protection he feels for Sam, but rather an uncontrollable desire to be with Cas, even as a friend or as an acquaintance. 

He acknowledges the fact he hasn’t known Cas for very long, but the bond he feels between him and Cas is something he can’t ignore.


	6. More Things to Worry About

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I admit I didn't reread this before uploading it so sorry for any and all errors, grammatical or otherwise. This chapter and the next gets a little dark, so. Sorry in advance. Also I'm not sure how many chapters I'm going to upload of this fic, but I'm currently on ten, so... at least ten. Yes. Okay. Enjoy. 
> 
> tw for slight violence?

_ It could’ve been you and me, against the world. _

 

*

 

Dean opens his eyes slowly to sunlight bursting through the window directly to his right. The brightness doesn’t register at first, only the weight half on him and half off, and a burst of black hair tickling his face. 

His fingers rub over Cas’ bicep, Dean leaning his cheek into Cas’ hair. The comforting weight of his body makes Dean sigh nice and slow, not wanting to pull away.

They’d grown into this little trap, the two of them. Falling asleep together and waking up in the morning, forgetting to set alarms but somehow waking up at just the right time. This keeps happening, again and again, and Dean really doesn’t want to stop. 

It’s not like they have sex all the time, either. Mostly they’re just falling asleep together, chilling out or watching something on Netflix. 

Dean was quick to figure out that Cas doesn’t like sex all that much. He’s a cuddler, and he likes cuddling a helluva lot more than sex. Dean doesn’t mind. At all. Cas is one of the only people he’s been with that he likes just  _ being _ with. Sleeping with someone, and  _ just  _ sleeping, has been the one thing Dean has always wanted to do with someone. Now, he’s found it, and he doesn’t want to let go.

Around his waist, Cas’ hand tightens a little. The realization that Cas is waking up just makes Dean roll onto his side towards him and tighten his own arms around Cas. Dean can’t help making a noise of complaint in the back of his throat, which makes Cas laugh sleepily.

“What time is it?” Cas asks, voice scratchy.

“Who cares?” Dean mumbles, throwing a leg over Cas and hooking it around his leg. With practically his entire body wrapped around Cas, he can safely try to keep him here for a few more minutes, at least.

“Dean,” Cas complains, but with a smile in his voice. They’ve played this game before.

“Cas,” Dean replies.

“I have class soon,” Cas mumbles. 

Even Dean can tell he doesn’t want to get up, but that just makes Dean sigh. He doesn’t want to be the reason Cas misses his class, so he slowly unhooks his leg from Cas’ and removes his arms from wrapping around Cas’ torso.

“Fine,” Dean sighs. 

“I’ll be back soon,” Cas laughs, crawling over Dean to get off the bed.

Dean easily falls asleep right after Cas leaves. His mind falling into random dreams, random memories. It starts off pretty pleasant, a wet dream, between him and Cas. 

It’s just him and Cas, making out in bed. Things get heated pretty quickly. He can feel the heat of Cas’ mouth on his, the way he gasps into Dean’s mouth and the wetness of his lips. Either real or dreamlike, Dean can feel the tightness of his pants getting harder to ignore.

Then, all at once, it changes on a dime.

Instead of Cas over him, it’s his dad. Instead of kissing Cas, he’s getting choked. In real life and in the dream, Dean can’t breathe. He’s gasping out loud, his toes tightening around the sheets and his fingers digging into the sides of the mattress. His cheeks become drenched with tears, and in the dream his vision blurs as he stares up at his father.

The image fades and changes, and his placement is shifted at once.

Instead of on his back, Dean is moved to standing on his knees over Cas. Dean’s hands clench around Cas’ neck, choking the life out of him. He can feel the energy fading from Cas’ body, see the light fading from his eyes.

Dean snaps himself out of the dream with an audible cry.

His body is drenched with sweat. He takes a moment to calm himself down, to hopefully stop himself from crying, and somehow succeeding in that. 

Quickly sitting up, he looks over at the clock on the desk and jumps out of bed. Cas would be back soon, and Dean can’t bear to look at him.

Dean walks to the door and throws it open, taking care to close it again despite the panic that courses through his body. He takes to the stairs and descends them, the small amount of exercise allowing him to expel some adrenaline, but not all of it. 

He’s trembling all over. When he reaches his floor and his door, he tries the knob, only to find that it’s locked. He forgot his key upstairs, and his cell phone.

He sinks to the floor, arms wrapping around his knees, pulling them to his chest. He buries his face into his arms, bottom lip trembling slightly as he sits there.

Minutes pass, but it feels like hours. His trembling body only stills after a while, but he doesn’t consciously remember his body becoming still. Footsteps sound down the hall, but again Dean doesn’t notice. Jingling keys half-pull him out of his trance, and he lifts his head a little. He doesn’t fully lift it until he hears his name being called.

He turns his head towards the voice, only to see Gabriel. 

“What are you doing out here?” He asks, walking forwards to unlock the door.

“Forgot my key in Cas’ room,” Dean mumbles, slowly pushing himself to his feet. He nearly stumbles and ends up leaning against the wall before he follows Gabriel inside.

“Why aren’t you in Cas’ room then?” Gabriel asks, shaking his head a little. 

“Had a nightmare,” Dean murmurs, climbing into bed.

He buries himself underneath his blankets and hides. A sigh from Gabriel tells Dean that he disapproves, but Dean is too upset with his subconscious to do anything about it. He fully acknowledges that it’s a dream, that it would never happen because he doesn’t  _ want  _ it to. He doesn’t want to become his father, he would never want to hurt anyone, especially Cas.

A few minutes later, Dean feels a hand on his shoulder. 

He turns and sees Cas, who smiles gently at him, sliding his hand over Dean’s shoulder to wrap around his stomach as he climbs into bed with him. Cas leans his face into Dean’s back, arm squeezing him slightly where it fell on his stomach.

“What was your nightmare about?” Cas whispers, in the silence. Gabriel must have texted him, Dean decides, to make him come here and get Dean to talk. 

“You,” Dean says, his throat feeling tight. “I dreamt I hurt you.”

Cas is silent for a couple seconds, like he’s considering the statement. It takes that long for Dean to get anxious again, the thought of Cas leaving him because of the possibility of becoming just like his father is too much. 

The silence becomes too hard to bear, and Dean turns around in Cas’ embrace to face him. They look at each other for a second before Cas replies.

“I have dreams like that sometimes,” he says.

“You do?” Dean breathes.

“Yeah,” Cas nods. “They really freak me out.”

“Have you had any about me?” Dean asks, and to his surprise, Cas nods.

“When I first met you,” Cas tells him. “Usually I have them when I first get to know people, like when I know they’re going to get close to me.”

Dean nods, his hand moving over Cas’ waist. Their feet are entangled, and he can feel himself calming down with Cas’ presence. As always, Cas is a source of calm for Dean, a way for him to lower all of his defenses.

It doesn’t take Dean very long to realize he needs to get up and get ready for class, but of course he doesn’t want to. 

He pulls away slowly, but decides to lean into Cas to give him one last kiss before he has to leave. Gabriel makes a puking noise in response that just makes Dean and Cas both smile. Dean really doesn’t want to leave Cas, even though he’ll be seeing him in a good hour or so. 

He knows he’s sort of becoming obsessed with Cas’ presence, and he’s too involved in Cas’ life to worry about it.


	7. Family Weekend

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I suppose you could have guessed what characters will appear in this chapter, but *spoiler alert* Lucifer and Michael look different from how they appear in the show (duh). They look like how I imagine they would, which is different from tv. Obviously. Since they have to have a vessel and look like that person-anyway. Enjoy. Also, sorry in advance.

_ All this is your fault, not mine. _

 

*

 

Dean’s alarm goes off, and he groans audibly in response to it before sitting up to actually turn it off. He’d already been up for at least an hour,  _ waiting  _ for his alarm to blare and wake him up for real, to tell him it was time to face his boyfriend’s family.

A big sigh leaves his chest as he reaches a hand up to rub his eyes. Sleep still clings to his eyes and his muscles, although his brain is completely awake. All throughout the night he tossed and turned, unable to completely fall into his normal, deep sleep. Most nights he does have a tough time sleeping, but this was for a completely different reason.

Meeting Cas’ family. His brothers, if they definitely are going to show up, are probably going to give Dean a stern talking to. This is their  _ baby brother,  _ to whom they protected for most of his life, and to whom they still see as a  _ baby,  _ for Pete’s sake. 

The sudden thought of being introduced as Cas’ boyfriend makes Dean wonder if Cas is even  _ out _ to his family. Hell knows Dean isn’t.

“Gabe,” Dean says, and turns to look at him, sitting up in bed on his computer.

He looks up from what he’s doing, eyebrows raised at Dean as he waits for him to continue.

“Has Cas formally come out to your family?” Dean asks, to which Gabriel cracks a smile at first, before responding.

“It’s not like we all didn’t  _ guess,  _ y’know? Cassie doesn’t exactly excrete heteronormativity,” Gabriel shrugs, returning his eyes to his computer screen. “You’re not going to get beat up, if that’s what you’re worried about. And neither will Cas. That was one of the things dear old dad loved ragging on Cas for, the whole possibility of him being anything other than straight. I’m glad it didn’t make him ashamed of who he is.”

“Me, too,” Dean nods, agreeing softly. 

Hearing all of that from Gabriel calms Dean down significantly, but it does make him remember and rethink a lot of memories from his childhood. He can’t remember a specific moment when his father made him think of being gay as an issue, but he knows it happened. That “heteronormativity” Gabriel mentioned was always on Dean’s mind, even subconsciously, throughout most of his life until recently.

Coming to college made Dean realize how stupid it was to deny that part of him that has been screaming at him for so long. That  _ part  _ that had always been on his mind since he was little, having crushes on boys and not realizing what it was, never being told that it was okay to like boys  _ and  _ girls.

Cas is the only guy Dean has been with, ever. He’d imagined dating a guy, but never imagined it would be as great as it is, yet more difficult than he could ever believe before now. 

They’ve been dating for a month now. It feels like so much longer, but in a good way. Like they’ve known each other in a different life, or an earlier friendship that they just rekindled. It feels like that, and it’s amazing. Everything about Cas is just that.

Dean flops backwards onto the bed, feeling tired yet again. Thinking of Cas makes him like that: sleepy and comfortable. His fingers absently reach for his necklace, fingers pinching the pendant loosely. He dozes like that, not realizing he fell asleep until he hears a knock on the door.

He hears Gabriel get up from his bed and answer the door, since it’s still early, it was probably locked. Cas speaks to Gabriel, and walks into the room, laughing softly when he sees Dean, appearing to be asleep.

Cas walks towards him and touches his fingers to Dean’s shoulder, shaking gently to wake him up. Not wanting to do that, Dean just groans softly in complaint.

“C’mon, wake up,” Cas complains right back. “It’s nearly ten, and my family is going to be here soon.”

“Sleeping,” Dean mumbles.

That lame response only makes Cas grab for Dean’s hand and try to pull him into a sitting position. He’s stronger than he looks, so the yank is quite effective to Dean’s chagrin.

“I’ll make you coffee,” Cas tells him, kissing him gently on the cheek. “They’ll love you, don’t worry.”

Dean groans again, putting his hands over his eyes to rub the sleep from them once again. As if believing this is an agreement, Cas pulls away to start a coffee from the keurig in the corner. Three minutes or so later, a blazing hot black coffee is placed in Dean’s hands, to which he almost immediately puts to his lips to start drinking.

“I don’t know how you do that,” Gabriel mumbles from the other side of the room.

“You get used to the heat after a while,” Dean replies, taking another sip. The scalding liquid coats his tongue and slips down his throat, leaving warmth in it’s wake.

“That reminds me,” Cas says softly to Dean, who looks up at Cas to see a worried gaze. “If possible, could you not smoke around my family when they get here? … It’s probably asking a lot. I’m sorry--” 

Dean cuts Cas off by reaching for his hand and giving him a squeeze and a smile.

“Don’t worry about it,” Dean whispers. “I won’t, it’s okay.”

Cas nods slowly, staying quiet now that his one fear had been expressed and acknowledged.

It takes very little time for Dean to finish his coffee and get dressed. Of course the adrenaline pumping through his veins makes it difficult to not freak out, or to stop continuously guessing everything he’s thinking. 

He manages not to take hold of Cas’ hand as they walk to the elevator, and down to the first floor. Dean  _ wants  _ to be nervous and let Cas know that, but he also doesn’t at the same time. He knows he shouldn’t be so freaked out about meeting Cas’ family, but he knows he’s allowed to be. The conflicting thoughts makes it even worse for his anxiety, only making his fight-or-flight go off the hook.

The three of them walk through the front door of the building, and the moment they cross through the threshold, Cas reaches for Dean’s hand. Their fingers weave together, and the contact almost makes Dean not realize the three people standing just ahead of them.

Two men stand on either side of a woman, who Dean knows to be Cas’ mother. Her black hair is tied back in a braid, with wisps of gray peeking through. Her eyes are like Cas’, bright and stormy blue. When they approach, Cas pulls his hand out of Dean’s to hug her, and she dwarfs him by quite a few inches.

Dean takes the few seconds of being free from Cas to glance at the two other men beside Cas’ mother. They’re both tall and model-like, holding their heads high and staring at Dean through their eyelashes, as if his mere presence disgusts them.

The man on the left, who Dean knows to be Michael, has blond hair, slicked back with gel. He’s wearing a button down shirt, khakis, slick leather brogues, as if he just came from a business meeting. Lucy, on the right, looks almost the opposite. He has dark brown, curly hair, and dark eyes that hold the same amount of contempt for Dean, if not more. He looks a bit more comfortable in jeans and a sweatshirt, as well as black converse.

Michael is the first to give Dean a fake smile and reach a hand out, which Dean takes, introducing himself. He does the same to Lucy, and then to Cas’ mother, who chooses to ignore the hand and hugs him tightly.

Cas is quick to suggest they get some breakfast, and they decide to walk to a cafe nearby. 

Again, Cas takes his hand as they walk, which makes Dean look at him and smile. When he turns his head back to face front, he notices Lucy looking at him. The expression on his face suggests distrust, something Dean knows well. He remembers having the very same expression, and a feeling of hatred for anyone who got close to Sam while they lived together. Friends, girlfriends, it doesn’t matter. Dean remembers most how much he hated new people that began to get close to Sam. 

Dean knows he has to make Lucy and Michael like him, and the only way to do that is to show them how much  _ Cas  _ likes him. It won’t be hard, considering Cas does in fact like him.

At the cafe, the conversation quickly turns to Dean, only to get to know him, although it does catch him a bit off guard. 

“So, Dean, what’s your major?” Cas’ mother asks, eyes smiling kindly as she takes a sip of tea.

“Undeclared, right now,” Dean answers. “I kind of like everything, so I don’t know what I really want to do yet.”

“Not true,” Cas interrupts anything his mother was going to say. “You like taking care of your car.”

“Yeah, but that doesn’t mean I want to do that forever,” Dean grins. “It’s more of a hobby.” He assures Cas’ mother, and maybe himself as well.

“What kind of car you got?” Lucy asks.

“‘67 Chevrolet Impala,” Dean answers, with a touch of delight in his voice. “My pride and joy.”

“Understatement of the century,” Gabriel snorts into his coffee. 

“How did you get such an old car?” Cas’ mother asks. 

Although Dean notices an ounce of panic in Cas’ expression, he finds himself not needing any help when he answers.

“It was my dad’s,” Dean nods. “He bought it in ‘73 and my uncle bought it from him about ten years ago to keep for me until I was old enough to drive.”

“How’s it run?” Lucy asks, taking a sip of coffee. Dean can’t help but notice a slight shift in topic. Rather than talk about his family, Lucy keeps the conversation on the object.

“Purrs like a kitten,” Dean replies.

“More like a lion,” Cas laughs. “It’s  _ so loud.”  _

“It just gives it character,” Dean smiles back.

Once more the conversation changes, this time to something trivial. Classes, grades, tests, homework. They talk for awhile about just this, and about basic college life. It’s refreshing to complain about their floormates and classmates, to people who will laugh and agree with them all. Dean even gets Lucy to crack a half-smile at one point.

Much too easily, the conversation changes to a darker one. It starts with Cas’ mother asking about Dean’s family.

“Mom,” Cas hisses, of course not wanting Dean to be uncomfortable.

“It’s okay,” Dean assures him, and looks at Cas’ mother. “It’s just me and my brother.”

“Oh, I’m sorry to hear that,” she says.

Dean shrugs in reply, continuing to talk even though he isn’t completely sure if it’s necessary to do so.

“My mom died when I was little, so I don’t remember her that much. It’s mostly just been me and Sam since then. We don’t see our dad anymore, so Sam lives with some friends of our uncle.” Dean takes a sip of his water, realizing how the energy of the conversation has changed. He even sees Michael and Lucy exchange glances, which doesn’t bother Dean as much as it probably should.

“What does your uncle do?” Cas’ mother asks.

“He works at a junkyard,” Dean smiles. “He really likes old junky cars.”

“So you have that in common?” Gabriel jokes, which makes nearly everyone either chuckle or crack a smile. 

“You could say that,” Dean grins. 

They finish their breakfast/lunch, and continue talking for hours. They walk back to campus and they give Cas’ family a tour. It’s a lot more fun than a normal tour, of course, and Dean actually finds that he’s enjoying himself.

It’s actually surprising, during the afternoon and as they’re walking back to the dorms, Michael asks to see Dean’s car, and Cas suggests they go for a drive. With only five seats in the car, Dean regretfully declines, but Gabriel says the rest of them can go, he’ll just go next time.

As with any car enthusiast, Dean pops the hood for Michael, and they talk cars for a little while. It starts to get dark as they chat, and Cas eventually convinces them to stop talking so they can go on their drive before they can’t see anything.

As with anyone who sees the night sky for the first time here, Dean feels a bit of awe himself as they drive through the countryside, and see the stars shattering across the blackness. Although it’s not his first time witnessing the beauty, Dean loves hearing Cas’ mother expressing her own feelings for the majesty that is the nighttime in the mountains.

All too quickly, the drive ends, and they return to the dorm. They share their farewells with Cas’ family, with promises to see them tomorrow for the continuation of family weekend.

Dean feels pretty good about the first ever interaction with Cas’ family, but as they approach the security desk, he realizes he forgot his wallet in the car, and by extension, his ID. Which he needs to get into the building.

“Fuck,” Dean breathes, patting his pockets. “Cas, I forgot my ID in the car, I’ll be back in a minute.”

“Want me to go with you?” Cas asks, smiling.

“No, that’s okay,” Dean smiles back, and leans in, only to give him a peck on the cheek. “You go on ahead. I’ll be two minutes behind you.”

“Okay,” Cas nods before turning away.

For some reason, Dean experiences a sinking feeling in his chest when he approaches his car. It starts in his chest and moves down into his stomach, coming from nowhere at all. He opens his car door well enough, and gets his wallet just fine. He locks his car door again and turns to walk back to the building.

“Hi, son,” a voice speaks so suddenly, it makes Dean jump.

There stands John, by the bumper. His eyes are drunkenly glazed over, his chest rising and falling with obvious anger, only made worse by the scent of alcohol spreading through the air.

“What are you doing here?” Dean asks, the sick feeling in his stomach exploding into anxiety that’s  _ screaming  _ for him to run.

“You know what I’m doing here,” John smiles, stepping forwards as Dean takes a step backwards. “Where’s Sam?”

Dean shakes his head. Even he doesn’t know that. Bobby made sure that no one knows, so no one, especially John, can find him.

“Tell me,” John hisses.

“I don’t know,” Dean gasps, backing up and hitting his hip on the door.

John’s hand, moving way too fast, connects with Dean’s throat. Despite the intoxicants in his bloodstream, he’s strong and angry. The connection pulls air from Dean’s windpipe, making him gasp as his eyes start to water. He can’t move, he can’t even breathe. Fear freezes him and makes him tremble. 

_ At least it’s me,  _ Dean thinks.  _ Not Sam. Never Sam. _

“Did you ever think,” John whispers, “it would turn out this way?” 

Dean chokes, gagging on the pressure on his Adam’s apple. His hands are digging into John’s arm, feebling trying to keep his aptitude for destruction at bay.

“Did you ever think,” John hisses, a bit of spit hitting Dean’s cheek, “it wouldn’t reach this point?”

_ I always knew,  _ Dean wants to say. 

“Why did it have to be you?” John growls. “Keeping my son from me. Keeping me from teaching him the lessons he was made to be taught.”

Dean fights for breath, an audible retching sound escapes him as John tightens his hand a little bit more. His hand brings Dean’s head up, and slams it on the metal. Seeing stars, Dean can’t keep his balance any longer.

He falls, and John lets him. He hits the pavement, slowly losing consciousness, but not slowly enough to hear the rest of John’s hate-filled speech.

“It turned out this way because of  _ you,”  _ John snarls, his hands reaching for Dean’s shirt collar. Dean’s head lolls forwards, then back. “We could’ve been  _ great,  _ you and me. It could’ve been you and me, against the  _ world.”  _ He can feel John’s rank breath on his face again. “We coulda stopped the people that killed your mom. We coulda…”

Dean’s body is still. His breathing is labored, it hurts to breathe and keep it level.

“All this is your fault, not mine,” John mutters.

With one last shove, he throws Dean’s body towards the ground. The final smack of his head hitting the pavement is the last straw, and Dean loses consciousness.


	8. Still Searching

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Despite not sleeping for like 24 hours I somehow still can't sleep. So. Here's a chapter. Hopefully I'll get to sleep after I post this. Enjoy! Thanks for all the comments and kudos, I love hearing what y'all think of this story :) <3
> 
> Again sorry for any mistakes, grammar or otherwise. Like I said, I'm super tired -.-'

_ Dean, my baby boy, where are you? _

_ Mommy’s gonna find you! _

 

The memory plays in Dean’s mind. He can hear his mother’s footsteps over the worn wooden floor. The creaking of the house as she walks past his hiding place behind the curtain. For some reason, she can’t find him. He should have known she was joking, pretending she couldn’t see him even though his toes are peeking out from underneath the fabric.

“M-mom,” Dean gasps in real time, his hand tightening around someone’s fingers. 

Someone shushes him, a hand touches his cheek, and lips press to his forehead. His hand tightens even more. His dream changes to a nightmare, even though he already knew that’s exactly where it was heading.

Flames lick up every corner of the room, smoke filling Sam’s nursery. Dean had run there when he heard his mother screaming, and his father yelling. Dean’s instincts were clear: he grabbed Sam and ran outside.

A hand is still touching his cheek when he wakes up.

A body lays on his ride side, a head leaning on his, and despite his horrible headache, he doesn’t mind the extra weight. 

Slowly, Dean opens his eyes, and a familiar scent wafts over him.

He turns his head to look, and sees Cas, the person that comforting smell belongs to. A relieved smile fills Cas’ face and his fingers stroke Dean’s cheek as Cas’ eyes get wet and shiny. He bites his lip and leans his forehead towards Dean’s, his eyes closing tight.

“I was so scared,” Cas whispers, his voice all wobbly, wet with unshed tears.

“Not as scared as me,” Dean whispers hoarsely, the memory coming back vivid, clear as how it happened.

“Y-you remember what happened?” Cas asks, leaning his head back so he can look at Dean, and see him nod. “I have to tell the doctor you’re awake.”

The statement comes out of his mouth much too easily, and Cas pulls away so fast. His response time is slow, and Dean can’t pull him back fast enough, or request that he stay for a little while longer. 

His head pounds in the bright light of the hospital room. He finds himself closing his eyes, the pain too much, the memory of last night too hard to ignore. Nausea boils in his stomach, getting worse with every breath. 

When the sound of approaching footsteps gets louder, Dean opens his eyes. He turns his head to see a doctor, followed by Cas, and… Bobby. Seeing him makes him turn away again, tears so easily pushing their way out of his tear ducts.

He wipes at them with the heel of his hand when the doctor approaches, and asks him a varying number of questions, as well as makes him perform a couple different, fairly simple, tasks. Dean knows it’s to test for a concussion, and he knows he’s failed at least a couple of the tasks. His memory is okay, but his ability to process numbers is not. It’s common, says the doctor, after having a concussion to this magnitude.

The doctor notices early on that Dean is having trouble speaking, and very quickly asks him to answer the questions with a pad of paper and a pen. He should take care not to speak for awhile, he’ll have trouble after being choked so forcefully.

“Your friend tells me you remember what happened?” The doctor says, and Dean looks away, not wanting to say a word.

His eyes get wet again as he slowly shakes his head. He can’t bear to look at Bobby or Cas, with his heart hammering away in his chest and knowing they can  _ hear it  _ from the fucking beeping heart monitor _.  _ His hands clench around his arms and he still won’t look at anyone, even when Bobby whispers to the doctor that he’d like to speak with Dean.

Dean puts his hand over his mouth as the doctor leaves, muffling a sob that escapes him much too easily. Thankfully, Cas ignores Bobby, and walks over to sit beside Dean. He knows he’ll only comfort him if he wants to be comforted, just because of Bobby being there, he won’t show as much affection as usual unless Dean shows that it’s okay.

Too upset to care about any of that, Dean leans into Cas’ shoulder, immediately getting hugged as Cas rubs his hand over Dean’s back.

“Dean, it was John, wusinit?” Bobby says, the sentence spoken so fast it was almost one word in it’s entirety.

Dean nods slightly, just a quick up and down that hardly seems like a nod at all. It doesn’t matter, and Bobby understands.

“What’d he want?” Bobby asks gently.

“Sam,” Dean whispers, his voice hurting as he speaks. “As always.”

“How did he even find you?” Bobby asks, more to himself than Dean. It doesn’t matter, Dean answers him anyway.

“He always does,” Dean murmurs.

Cas tightens his fingers where they fell on Dean’s back. He wants to hug him, Dean knows, or comfort him in some way that’s not simply touching him a little. Cas knows how Dean is feeling, how much it hurts, how anxious he is right at this moment. 

Before anyone can say anymore, a phone starts ringing, and Dean knows it belongs to Cas even before he pulls away to answer it. Dean almost doesn’t hear what Cas is saying, only half paying attention while he sits there, numb.

“He’s… okay,” Cas says to whoever it is on the other line. 

Dean tunes in just in time to hear a muffled,  _ what happened?  _ which just makes Cas hesitate, like he isn’t sure what to do or say in response. 

“You can tell them,” Dean whispers to Cas, who turns with a look that says,  _ are you sure?  _ Dean nods to that.

“It was his dad,” Cas says, sort of soft.

_ “What?” _ The exclamation comes loud enough to hear without straining. 

Dean tunes out of the conversation again, the numbness spreading through his body and brain once again. He registers the sensation of seeing himself rather than feeling himself, sitting there on the bed. His vision goes a bit wonky, the colors blurring together and smearing without realizing that they are.

Sounds become muffled, and he knows people are speaking, although he can’t understand what they’re saying. He’s very conscious of the fact that someone  _ is  _ saying his name, but even though he looks up at sees Cas’ lips moving, he can’t understand what it is he’s saying. 

Dean feels a hand touch his shoulder, and he turns to look at it, seeing the thick arm and feeling it’s weight at the same time. He follows the hand, looking up at the arm until it hits the shoulder, than the face. Bobby’s face, he realizes.

“We’ll find him,” Bobby says, his gruff voice gentle in that way he has.

“Sure,” Dean whispers.

He can’t believe Bobby. He can’t believe anything, anyone tells him concerning John.  

Does it suck? Yes. 

Did it hurt? Hell yes. 

Is anything going to be solved? Probably not.

Is John going to be found, arrested, dealt with? No, because he should have been dealt with years ago. This should have been  _ solved  _ years ago. It could have been and it wasn’t. Everyone ran away from John, because the best thing to do was get away from him. It’s the easiest thing to do.

Dean closes his eyes and pinches the bridge of his nose between his thumb and forefinger. Right now, all he wants to do is smoke a cigarette.


	9. Found

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Still writing a bit every day, don't worry, I won't give you a long hiatus like last time.  
> I'm actually planning a sequel (my mind is crazy, this is all I think about) but this time from Sam's POV and a few years in the future? I guess let me know what you think of that idea, although I'm probably going to end up writing it one way or another, no matter the responses I get haha
> 
> Enjoy!

 

_ Now that I showed you what I been through _

_ … I found out I know I can cry _

_ (I Found Out by John Lennon) _

 

_ * _

 

A day goes by and it doesn’t take very long for the police to find out that John is already wanted in Ohio. He’s accused of murdering someone, Bobby tells Dean, with a hard expression that’s hard to look at. Bobby doesn’t want to believe it, Dean is sure, but Dean knows it’s true, that John did that.

Dean doesn’t say anything, only nodding in response since his throat still hurts, it’s still hard to speak. He remembers what John said, about finding the people who killed Dean’s mother, and it makes Dean sick to his stomach.

He knows his mother was killed in fire, he knows that the stove was left on, that’s what caused it to happen. He knows all that and yet he knows it hurts, accepting his mother was killed in a fire. He wants to believe he could have stopped it, or could have gotten revenge somehow, but it’s not worth it to think that way, not when he was so young when it happened, when there was nothing anyone could have done at the time, nothing they can do now.

He spends the night in his dorm room thinking about his father, knowing the person John killed was someone he thought was the culprit.  _ The person he killed.  _ God, it’s hard to stomach that.

No one knows, no one but Dean and Bobby. If Cas finds out, Dean isn’t sure what Cas would do, if he’d trust Dean anymore. Or if Gabe would trust Dean, or any of their brothers would, or Cas’ mother. 

Dean stares out his window and watches the sunrise, thinking about what it would be like without Cas, without Gabe, without Sam and Bobby. It hurts so bad, and his anxious mind convinces him that it’s going to happen, that everyone will run away as soon as they find out, as soon as they hear Dean is the son of a  _ murderer.  _

Trying hard not to sniffle, Dean pushes himself into a sitting position and pulls his pants from the floor, pulling them on quickly. His shoes, his jacket, making sure his cigarettes are in his pocket, it’s all quick. 

This panic attack is different. It’s less jarring than the others. This one is like acceptance, it settles into his chest strangely, the anxiety pooling in the back of his mind, telling him there’s nothing he can do, repeating over and over again. It grows like bile in his stomach, anger that festers and blows, shrivelling into a quivering pile of puss that settles over his tongue. Words he wishes he could speak disappear in an instant, thoughts and feelings dissipate, swallowed up by the wound inside his mind.

He sits in the corner of the smoking area, arms wrapped around himself and the feeling of hopelessness, yet agreement of that loss, that acceptance, rests on his shoulders. He knows there’s nothing he can do, he  _ knows  _ he can’t fight the loss he will experience in something like a day or more, depending on when they catch John.

Alone. He’ll have to get used to that feeling. 

Alone, alone, alone.

The word feels strange with the curl of his tongue, and he whispers it out loud to the cigarette burning between his fingers. Again, he whispers it, and the breath from his lips makes the embers blaze orange for a mere second. 

The warmth from his cigarette makes his eyes water, although he can’t tell if it’s his sadness that’s doing it, or the smoke. 

Maybe it is the sadness, he thinks at once, as the cold begins to set in before the sunrise heats the earth. The chill settles into his bones, and the heaviness makes it harder to breathe. It makes Dean imagine Cas, feeling his arms and seeing his smile. The way his hair is always a mess and… the way his body is always so warm.

Dean crushes his cigarette into the pavement, rising before the embers are completely out. He wants Cas, he wants to hold him and hug him. He wants to be  _ warm,  _ even if he can never be warm again.

He almost wants to take the stairs to feel the urgency of getting to Cas, but he manages not to do that, opting to wait in the elevator instead. The journey is faster than expected, but still not fast enough and Dean walks to the end of the hall, the closed door somehow so inviting.

He knocks, and waits. Knocks again, then he hears shuffling.

Practically a minute goes by and Dean feels the lingering panic attack, finding his emotions running amuck at the tail end of the panic that he hates so much. He puts a hand to his face as the door opens, and fingers grab him, pulling him inside before the tears fully start leaking.

Cas whispers something low to Dean, something that sounds like,  _ sh sh sh,  _ while bringing him to the bed. His fingers find the back of Dean’s head, and he pulls Dean close, his face leaning into Cas’ shoulder. 

An ugly sob leaves Dean’s mouth but Cas doesn’t push him away, the cooing just gets softer, the petting on the back of his head gets more gentle, the slight rocking gets more rhythmic, more calming.

Dean’s fingers dig into Cas’ shirt and his skin, but Cas doesn’t say anything about it. Even as Dean’s crying slows, and he becomes quiet, Cas continues to pet him, rock him, speak to him. He’s warm. He’s warm. He’s so warm.

“You’re alright,” Cas says, the first words Dean registers him speaking.

Dean sniffs in response, not wanting to believe him, although he does manage to release his fingers a little from Cas’ shirt. His breathing becomes even, but still, he doesn’t pull away. He wants Cas, he wants his warmth, his fingers against his back and his scent surrounding them both.

Slowly, Dean does finally pull away, just to wipe at his eyes and try his best not to start crying again. A deep breath gets caught in his throat, but he does manage to let it out slowly, with Cas’ hand moving down his shoulder that somehow helps.

“Did you sleep at all last night?” Cas asks, his voice soft, yet husky with sleep.

Dean shakes his head, his hand dropping into his lap.

“Why didn’t you come get me? I would have stayed up with you,” Cas’ whisper makes Dean tear up again. His head tilts down to look at his lap.

“I didn’t want to bother…” Dean whispers, but he trails off before the thought is complete. He shakes his head a little, and Cas reaches his hand out again to squeeze his arm. 

“I don’t know,” Dean decides, after another second. “I don’t know.”

“You can always come get me if you need me,” Cas whispers. His fingers tighten, to emphasize the importance of what he’s saying.

Dean looks into his eyes, finally, his head tilting up to stare right at Cas. His eyes have gone big, insistent. For once he doesn’t look nervous or blank, he just looks serious. There’s this intensity in his eyes that Dean can’t name, but it’s a look central to Cas and only Cas. Dean has never seen a look so intense before.

“I will always come when you call,” Cas whispers. “When you’re scared, when you can’t sleep, when you just  _ want  _ someone. I’ll be there.”

Dean nods, slowly. 

Cas then offers the idea of going to sleep, although Dean hesitates in replying right away. There’s this part of him that thinks Cas is lying, and when he wakes up, Cas is going to be gone, no trace of him to be found. 

Pushing that thought down, Dean nods and gets undressed, kicking his shoes and pants off, almost in one swift motion. Despite actually sleeping last night, Cas curls up with Dean, practically insisting that they cuddle, not that Dean minds at all.

Maybe too easily, Dean finds himself drifting off after they both get comfortable. The air is quiet, everything is calm, still. Cas whispers something to Dean, but he’s already asleep by the time Cas speaks. The murmur falls on deaf ears, but if he’d been awake, Dean would have heard Cas wishing Dean sweet dreams.


	10. Little Brother

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the lack of chapters, been working 40 hour weeks so I am v tired almost constantly.  
> Rufus is mentioned in this chapter, and I realize I don't remember what happened to him in the show, or like, even if he's a good person. So let's pretend he is, if he isn't, okay? All I remember is that Bobby is his friend lol  
> Enjoy xox

_ Lonely boy hiding behind the front door _

_...Come back Mum and Dad _

_ You’re growing apart _

_ You know that I’m growing up sad _

_ (Family Snapshot by Peter Gabriel) _

 

_ * _

 

A frantic buzzing pulls Dean out of his deep slumber. The dreamless sleep was incredibly pleasant, almost so much so that he doesn’t want to wake up again. Even Cas’ hand touching his chest and telling him he has a phone call, it almost makes him want to close his eyes again, and just sleep.

Dean accepts the call before even looking at the caller ID, only grabbing the phone and pressing it to his ear tightly.

“Hu-lo,” Dean grumbles, the word coming out slurred and tired sounding.

“Dean!” A voice exclaims on the other end, and in an instant Dean recognizes it as Sam’s voice. That wakes him up a bit more.

“Sammy, hey,” Dean says, a little less sleep in his voice.

Dean actually manages to sit up, rubbing sleep from his eyes as he stares at his legs underneath the blankets. He frantically awaits Sam’s response. Usually Sam will launch into an explanation of why he’s calling… but not this time.

“...H-how are you?” Sam asks, the hesitation, the worry in his voice, it’s all obvious.

“Fine.”

“A-are you sure?”

“Did Bobby tell you?” Dean asks, unintentional anger in his voice that makes Sam go very quiet. “Sorry,” Dean whispers. “Yes, I’m sure I’m okay.”

“What did he do?” Sam asks, his voice still soft and worried. He sounds like he’s choosing his words carefully.

“Threw me around a little, nothing I can’t handle,” Dean says, a little too confidently.

The response makes Cas look at him. He turns around in his chair and frowns, obviously displeased with Dean so openly lying to Sam. A second passes of Cas staring at Dean, and when Dean doesn’t correct himself, Cas sighs and turns away again.

Dean believes that Cas realizes it’s probably best not to tell Sam everything. It would probably make him worry a lot more than is necessary. Or maybe it would be better to tell him everything, maybe it would be better because Sam  _ is  _ involved in all of this. What would be better? Protecting him, or telling him the truth?

“Dean, I want to see you,” Sam says, his voice loud, sudden. It makes Dean jump a little, widen his eyes and frown.

“Sam you--”

“Don’t tell me I can’t!” He exclaims, panic in his voice. “I want to see you! I haven’t been able to see you in a really long time, and I really…” He trails off, sniffling a little. 

Dean lets out a small sigh and lowers the phone for a quick second, just to rub at his eyes a little as he thinks of the best way to respond. 

He returns the phone to his ear and sighs once again.

“Okay,” he whispers. “But I have some conditions.”

“What are they?” Sam mumbles.

“I won’t let you come here until dad is found,” Dean shakes his head a little. “I don’t want you in danger like that.”

“...Fine,” Sam whispers. 

“And don’t you go running off again, this is serious,” Dean says almost immediately. He knows Sam and knows he would probably do something like that.

“Fine, okay,” Sam grumbles, sounding exasperated.

“Promise?”

“I promise.”

“Good,” Dean sighs again. “Good,” he whispers again. It’s all he can think to say, everything is good as long as Sam is safe and away from John.

Slowly, Dean swallows, wishing he could tell Sam the truth. The truth about what Bobby told him about John, the reason for the police looking for him. How Sam would react, Dean isn’t sure. He doesn’t even know if Bobby told Sam that much, and Dean decides no, probably not. It would just make Sam afraid, and want to be with Dean again. Whenever Dean was hurt by John, Sam always wanted to come see him, help him, be with him. It’s nice to know things haven’t changed, despite things really not changing, apparently.

They share their goodbyes not long after. Dean can hear Rufus in the background, telling Sam to go do something that makes Sam groan like an annoyed kid. That makes Dean smile, almost wanting to stay on the line to hear him complain like a normal kid. He barely had a chance to do that growing up, so it’s nice to hear.

The day is lazy, despite the panic of last night, and the crying. Cas cuddles Dean so much, Dean isn’t sure he wants the day to end. He dozes and spends hours cuddling. It feels so nice and comfortable, for awhile he somehow manages to forget what happened.

“Does Sam know?” Cas asks, moving a tiny bit away from him to speak. 

They’re laying in Dean’s room now, in his bed. After some lunch, it was decided they’d go to Dean and Gabriel’s room, what with various homework assignments needing to be done, although Dean is reluctant to start. Neither Gabriel nor Cas tell him to do his homework, so he takes the moment of freedom to relax with Cas. Dean decides he deserves this time of peace he hasn’t had for the past couple days.

“About what,” Dean mumbles a response to Cas’ question, sleep keeping his voice husky and low.

“You,” Cas whispers, “being… queer.”

Dean smiles at his wording, and he realizes they’ve never had the “labels” conversation. He actually isn’t sure Cas is even  _ gay,  _ although Gabriel has told him that much. That could just be his assumption, but--

“I haven’t told him,” Dean interrupts his own thoughts. “I’ve only ever had girlfriends before you, so.”

“Mm,” Cas nods a little. 

“I don’t think he’d care,” Dean shrugs. “He’s just a kid, so… I don’t know. I haven’t lived with him long enough to ask him about it.”

“What do you mean?” Cas asks, genuine confusion in his voice.

The question makes Cas sit up a little, his head moving from Dean’s chest to his hand, propping up his chin. Dean continues to lie on his back with one hand still on Cas’ shoulder, his eyes trained up towards the ceiling to try and sort his thoughts out, to find the point where he should start explaining something he’s never before explained in such extreme detail that he wants to at this moment.

“Well, I’m 20 now, and I haven’t lived with Sam since I was almost 17,” Dean starts to explain, but the words makes even Gabe stop typing to turn in his chair and look at him.

“Why so long?” Cas asks, his voice gentle.

“Hm…” Dean hums, trying to think of what made him and Sam split up like they did. “It was Bobby that managed to get us away from John, but it was a process. You know DCF doesn’t do shit, so it was a long time before Bobby and his wife were able to adopt me, and his friend Rufus and his wife were able to adopt Sam.

“I made sure Sam went first though, I stayed in a group home before I could get adopted by Bobby,” Dean adds it as an afterthought. He frowns a little as he finishes, wondering why he never mentioned this before to either Cas or Gabe.

Maybe he was trying to forget. Yes, that has to be it. Wanting to be with Sam, but away from their father. Wishing life was different, wishing it hadn’t happened like it did.

“Have you seen him since you were separated?” Cas asks, his voice soft, measured. 

“Yeah, a few times a year for birthdays and stuff,” Dean nods. “Not enough though. I wish I could see him more. Be with him all the time like it used to be.”

He’s fully aware of the sentimental tone to his voice, but he hardly notices because he is very much thinking of the past. He remembers hanging out with Sam, even aside from protecting him from their father, they had fun, just the two of them. Even raising Sam wasn’t so bad, because Sam’s a good kid, a smart kid. There were times when it felt like Sam was raising Dean, although Sam would deny it. He’s so strong, although Dean is surprised he isn’t more fucked up. Fucked up like Dean knows he himself is.

“You miss him,” Cas says, less like a question, more as an observation.

Dean nods, unsure of what else to say to that.

“How old is he?”

“Sixteen,” Dean nods a little, his eyes searching the ceiling for something, he isn’t sure what. “Two more years and he’ll be in college, and he can do whatever he wants… go wherever he wants.”

“Where do you think he’ll go to school?” Cas asks, as if he knows exactly what Dean is going to say.

“Probably here,” Dean smiles, looking at him again. “Ever since I can remember, Sam’s always wanted to go where I am. Even last Christmas, he told me that he’s going to apply to the school I get into, because he wants to stay with me.”

Dean shakes his head, returning his eyes to the ceiling again. A low sigh leaves his nose, a small frown bringing down the corners of his lips.

“I kind of don’t want him to do that. I want him to be his own person, not follow me around forever, y’know?” Dean adds the afterthought in a whisper.

“You should tell him, just… not to apply just to this school, then. Apply to other places, just in case,” Cas offers. “Maybe don’t tell him straight out not to come here, unless you want to, I don’t know.”

“Yeah I don’t think I’m going to crush him like that,” Dean laughs.

Again, he gets a little bit more tired. More tired now that he was talking about something easy, something simple. Being with the two people here that he cares about, the two people here that he trusts. 

Cas’ warmth makes it easy to think about the good things, the nice things, the comfortable things. Like an image of home. An image of… of making dinners and sitting at a dining table with all his friends. With his found family, his created family. A family that means something good, that makes him proud, that doesn’t fill him with anxiety and regret.

Dean looks at Cas and sees him smiling. Even when Dean starts to close his eyes, Cas doesn’t turn away or move from him. He keeps smiling. Keeps lying there. Cas continues to be the warmth that Dean needs, that he wants. 

A part of him doesn’t want to keep wanting Cas. A part of him hates the feeling Cas stirs up deep in Dean’s chest. It hurts, but in a good way. It’s warm, but not unbearable. It makes him nervous, but in a way that makes him want more.

Without quite knowing how it is he knows it, he realizes at once how much he is absolutely in love with Castiel. It’s the most amazing realization, and he can’t wait to tell Cas the news. Right after, of course, he wakes up from the nap that quickly consumes him.


	11. A Journey

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I didn't edit much before posting so feel free to yell at me for grammar problems etc

_ Living this life has its problems _

_ So I think that I’ll give it a break _

_ Oh, I’m going back to the family, _

_ Cos’ I’ve had about all that I can take _

_ (Back to the Family, by Jethro Tull) _

 

\--

 

It felt as though barely any time had passed before it was Christmas. The mountains were covered with snow long before it became December, and it wasn’t very long at all before finals came and went. 

The semester hadn’t been the worst as far as Dean’s GPA was considered. He’d managed a 3.2 which was just enough to keep the couple scholarships he had, and just stay at school in general. He had actually been terrified of that: the possibility of flunking out of school and having to leave the best friendships he’d had in years.

Of course, even with Christmas coming around, he couldn’t get rid of his boyfriend or his roommate that easy. Even before the semester was over, Cas had already invited him over for the month or so they had off from school. Dean wouldn’t be able to stay over for the entirety of the month, mostly because Bobby needed his help, but he was inclined to spend as long as he could with Cas.

Not for the first time, Dean thought about how much Cas meant to him. He hadn’t yet found the opportunity to tell him exactly how he felt about Cas. It was not an easy conversation, not really. He was so afraid that by thinking those words, planning to say them, the only that would come out would be, “I need you,” rather than what he truly wanted to say.

With the stress of finals, it’s not like they had much time to discuss anything, either. Before Dean knew it, he was in his car and on his way to Bobby’s house for a few weeks, only having kissed Cas goodbye and… that was it.

On the drive, Dean almost,  _ almost  _ stopped more than once to try and calm his racing, panicked heart.

Leaving in this way, like this… it was unnerving. A part of his anxious head told him that this was  _ the end.  _ For some reason, he kept thinking that this was the last time he would see Cas. This of course, not being true.

Now, Dean is lying in bed, a day before he is to leave to go to Cas’ house. He will spend a week with Cas and Cas’ family. It will be fun. Dean is  _ going  _ to have fun. He keeps repeating in his head. Again, and again.  _ I  _ will _ have fun. I’ll see Cas. I’ll tell him I love him. _

He got up early to make the relatively long drive to Cas’ house, which was quite a few hours away. 

His mother’s house was small, a little condo in the middle of a long row of other, similar looking condos. It was the epitome of repetition, little boxes copied and pasted over and over again all over the village that the condos seemed to inhabit. They were all gray and sad looking, not yet covered in snow, if they would even be getting snow at all this Christmas, Dean wasn’t sure. He really hoped they would.

It took him quite awhile to find the house in question. When all the houses looked the same, it was difficult to spot the house that was marked 44B, and then more difficult to find a parking spot.

Eventually Dean was able to actually walk to the door and knock on it. He was nervous, once again, worrying that it was the wrong house, or that Cas’ wouldn’t be here, or that a million other things would go wrong and he’d have to figure out something else.

The door is suddenly flung open in the middle of all these thoughts, and Cas appears in the doorway, grinning.

Dean smiles, arms slowly opening just in time for Cas to jump into them, giving Dean a tight hug that he returns easily. It had only been a few weeks, but it felt way too long. He wouldn’t admit it to Cas, but Dean had had trouble sleeping without being able to roll over and hug someone in the middle of the night.

He hadn’t had very many nightmares, but that didn’t mean he didn’t think about them constantly, or the memories that plagued his thoughts when he was alone. He had been helping Bobby at the junkyard, so that meant he was alone often, and of course, that meant he felt way too alone, almost constantly.

Cas pulls him inside the house, telling him that it wouldn’t be very long before dinner was ready and how excited his mom was to cook for him. For now, it was just the three of them, since Gabe had his own mother and family to spend time with, though he would come over later in the week to hang out, plus Michael and Lucy, too.

For now, it was just the two of them. Cas’ mom was out buying groceries, so it was just them. 

Cas took him on a short tour of the house, walking through the threshold and gesturing to the left, where sat the stairs to the second floor, and to the right, where it lead to the living room. He brought Dean into the living room first, gesturing to the small tube TV sitting against the right wall, and the couch in front of it. This room also held the dining room, or what could be considered the dining room, on account of its small size.

It was a small table with four chairs around it, bills piled in one section. It was strangely reminiscent of when Dean was a kid, sorting through the bills his father had acquired and choosing which ones they would be able to pay, and which ones they would never, in a million years, be able to afford.

Cas keeps walking, moving to the left of the dining room, where it leads to the small kitchen. It’s clean, but it looks like more than one appliance is broken. Cas only confirms this when he starts talking about the broken dishwasher, and the leaking sink, and the stove which has more than one broken burner.

“I can probably fix that,” Dean says, without really thinking about it. His mind was already going into how he’d go about it, thinking of the tools he’d need and how he’d figure out what went wrong with it.

“What?” Cas laughs, like he’s not sure Dean is serious.

“Um, the sink and the dishwasher, and probably the stove,” he clarifies. “I can try at least.”

“I’m not going to make you fix my kitchen, Dean,” Cas shakes his head.

“What if I do it anyway?” Dean answers, already turning away to find the front door again.

“Dean,” Cas sighs, catching his arm.

Almost reluctantly, Dean turns back, to see a barely hidden smile on Cas’ face. It reminds him of one of the first times they’d spoken. How Cas’ eyes searched Dean’s face with such concentration, like he wanted to figure out the secrets hidden there.

In that moment, Cas looks like he’s about to say something, but Dean moves in before he can speak. For a split second, Dean and Cas are less than an inch apart, noses brushing together as Dean tries to remember how to breathe. Strangely, it was hard remembering to do that while in Cas’ presence. All he wanted to do was stare, stare, stare.

Dean catches the side of Cas’ face with his palm, pressing his thumb against his cheek and in this moment, staring into his eyes, Dean remembers how much he loves Cas. His heart leaps in his chest, and he gets afraid, in that moment. The vulnerability is way too much.

“Let me fix your sink, Cas,” he whispers.

Cas steps away, grinning. 

“Fine,” he groans. 

Dean smiles and starts to turn again, but then thinks better of it. Instead, he steps forwards again to give Cas a light peck on the lips.

  
  


* * *

 

  
  


By the time Cas’ mother comes home, Dean has already fixed the sink and the dishwasher, and is currently working on the stove. It doesn’t seem that anything is really broken, per se, just that the burners are literally  _ burned out.  _ They’d probably have to buy new burners, but judging from the age of the stove, he’s not sure that they’d even be available anywhere.

Hilariously, (or maybe not) Cas’ mother was not alone when she came home. Instead, she had Lucy, Michael,  _ and  _ Gabe with her. Figures.

“Honestly, I’m not surprised,” a voice says behind Dean, and he turns to see Gabe.

“What?” Dean asks, just as Cas’ mother comes in.

“Honey, you didn’t have to go through all this trouble,” she says, that motherly gratitude filling her expression, a face Dean had only seen in movies and on other people’s mothers.

“It wasn’t any trouble,” Dean shakes his head, about to say how much he likes fixing things, how it would bother him if there was something he could have done and he didn’t do it. Gabe beats him to it, however.

“Dean really likes fixing things, trust me,” Gabe says, rolling his eyes. “He’d probably be awake all night thinking about how to fix everything. This is better for him,  _ trust me.”  _

Dean shrugs a little, reaching behind him to scratch the back of his head. He has to admit that it’s true, but the words won’t come out. A sad thought fills his head, thinking of his own mother, realizing that, if she was alive, he’d be doing the same things for her. If something went wrong with her car, or with the sink or the stove, he’d swoop in to save the day. 

He turns back to the stove, hiding his sad face to continue what he was doing inside it. He tries to fight the feelings he can’t keep in check. It doesn’t help with Christmas so close, he’s been feeling this way for awhile now.

Christmas was always hard, not only because of their small family, but because his father never did a very good job of making them feel like family. Never had presents, never had a good family dinner. Even when he started living with Bobby, the Christmas season never felt right to Dean. He’d never been happy during Christmas, or the New Year. 

Everything felt way too fake. It was like they were being forced to be happy, spending time with Dean when they didn’t want to. 

Dean finishes what he can fix of the stove and packs up his tools to get out of the kitchen for Cas’ mom. Instead of staying in the house, Dean leaves to go put his toolbox back in his car, thankfully just far enough away that he can try to calm down on the short walk.

On the walk, he hears someone leave after him, the door closing just a second after him, and he knows it’s Cas even before he turns around to look. Cas can tell when Dean is upset, even if Dean tries  _ really hard  _ to hide it.

He doesn’t say anything until Dean puts the box away and closes the trunk. Instead of walking back, Dean sits against the trunk, waiting for either Cas to ask something, or for Dean to realize what he wants to tell him.

“You okay?” Cas whispers, walking over to sit beside him.

“Christmas is just a weird time for me, that’s all,” he whispers back. Saying out loud makes his chest hurt.

“What do you mean?”

“We never had Christmas,” he shakes his head. “Dad wasn’t around, so it was just… frozen TV dinners, and lukewarm spaghettios.” Dean reaches up to pull at the pendent on his neck. “You have… a big family,” Dean whispers, hating how choked up he feels. “They love you and I just--” his voice cracks. “I don’t feel like I have that.”

Dean lets out a slow breath, trying his best to calm down. No cigarettes here, he can’t do that here. Cas’ mom and his brothers would get pissed at him, but most of all towards Cas for dating someone like that.

“Maybe you didn’t before,” Cas whispers, “but you have it now. We’re all your family… you have a family, Dean.”

Dean turns to glance at him. There’s an unwavering look in Cas’ eyes and it stays steady, a look that makes Dean’s hard squeeze in a comforting kind of pain.

“You can’t see Sam during Christmas, can you?” Cas asks, the phrasing of the question only confirming that he knows the answer to his own question.

“I don’t think so,” Dean deflates, turning away again. “Bobby doesn’t really… he doesn’t like Christmas or the idea of organized religion in general, so… at his house we don’t really do much of the whole Jesus thing, anyway.”

“I can understand that,” Cas whispers. 

“I don’t know where Sam is, either,” Dean continues. “Rufus moves around a lot, so they might not even be in the country right now, I don’t know.”

Cas nods again, and adjusts his body so his shoulder is touching Dean’s. Even in silence, he knows exactly what Dean needs. Again, the moment catches him, and he wants to tell Cas how he feels but a voice interrupts them, loudly.

It was Gabe, calling them back inside. Cas’ mom was complaining that it was cold, and the two of them shouldn’t be outside without coats on for so long. Cas and Dean both had to smile at that, Cas taking Dean by the hand to pull him back into the house.

Dinner was lovely, and the night was spent talking and laughing… it felt like a movie. When the family gets together and plays board games or something. That’s what it felt like, like there was a script they were following to make it seem wholesome and fun.

It wasn’t very long before Cas was pulling Dean up the stairs to go to bed, Gabe following after them because there wasn’t anywhere else for him to sleep. Lucy and Michael got the couches, and Gabe gets a sleeping bag on the floor of Cas’ bedroom.

Lying down with Cas for the night made Dean fall asleep almost in an instant. He didn’t need to think about falling asleep or worry about anything. All he needed to do was wrap up around Cas and close his eyes. In that moment, of fading consciousness, Dean wanted to tell Cas he loved him, but the exhaustion and creeping darkness prevented him from doing that.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry all for the long hiatus. I don't know if anyone still reads this, so I'm not expecting a big response from this upload. I've written this chapter at about 10k words, but I didn't feel like uploading them all in one go so I'm going to separate them out into little parts, probably about 2k intervals.
> 
> If you'd like to know what happened to Dean+Cas+etc that month or so between John fucking things up and where they currently are, let me know (I'll probably just write it out in a comment or something if you're curious, or make a separate "story" for little drabbles and things that don't fit in with the current story. Let me know if you'd be interested in either option). I also have plans for a sequel, possibly a Sam story that takes place during his college days (so I'd just be fast forwarding 2-ish years and telling y'all what he's up to during college).
> 
> Thank you, as always, for reading. It means a lot to see comments and people who actually seem to enjoy my mess of a mind, spitting out words like mad when I get the energy to do so. These boys are always on my mind, and in the past couple of days I just couldn't stop writing, so... I hope you enjoy this chapter and chapters to come.
> 
> ***PS if I don't upload the next part in either a few hours or a day after this one is posted **PLEASE** yell at me. I have it already written and all I need to do is copy and paste it so I literally have no excuse.


	12. Finger on the Trigger

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In which Dean+Cas get it on, and things happen after that sort of trigger Dean a lot.  
> Mentions a lot of dissociation stuff so like. tw for that? idk enjoy 
> 
> as always feel free to comment on spelling mistakes, weird shit that dont make sense, and grammar shits cuz im tired but i promised myself i would upload this (aka ive edited it as much as possible so it would make sense but im not perfect)

_ I'm not content to be with you in the daytime _

_ Girl I want to be with you all of the time _

_ The only time I feel alright is by your side _

_ (All Day And All Of The Night by the Kinks) _

 

\--

Dean wakes up in the morning slowly. There's a sensation of warmth all over him, yet the room is relatively cold, and the combination of these two temperatures makes his mind foggy, slow. The muted white light streaming in through the window behind the bed makes his eyes not want to open, the sleepy feeling clings to his mind and keeps him there.

A head nuzzles against his neck, a body adjusting a little more against him. He feels a nose press to the skin of his neck, turning into lips that touch the edge of his jaw and move down a little ways. The body moves against Dean, changing position so instead of lying beside him, Cas was lying on top of him. Now almost completely awake, Dean can feel the weight of Cas' body, and the heat of him pressing close. I t’s hard to focus on really anything else except the feeling of Cas’ hot lips pressing to his skin, and every inch of Dean that was reacting to Cas and vice versa.

Dean sighs, pressing his fingers into Cas’ chin to get him to move his lips upwards. Now that he was a little more awake, he wanted Cas' lips against his and he wraps his fingers around Cas' cheeks to pull him down against him. Their noses bump clumsily, and Dean smiles just barely when he tastes Cas' morning breath, realizing this is what he wanted first thing in the morning just made it so much better.

Cas starts to pull away a few inches, which just makes Dean open his eyes to look up at him, adjusting his body to sit a little more comfortably on top of Dean. His hands stay on Dean’s chest, pressing his fingertips into his t-shirt, eyes staring down at him with that same, ever present, look of interest.

The look doesn’t fade as Cas leans down once again to press his lips to Dean’s. He moves his lips slowly, his breath fading in and out against Dean’s cheek. Dean finds his hands moving to press once again to Cas' cheeks to pull him in. Despite not needing to, Dean angles his head up as much as he can, like he can’t get close enough.

That feeling erupts inside him, realizing he wants to get as close as he can to Cas. Dean keeps leaning forwards until he’s sitting up with Cas in his lap, and still kissing him, he pushes Cas onto his back. Cas lands on the bed with a slight bounce but a grin fills his face so he knows it's okay to keep going.

Dean increases the tempo of the kiss, pushing his mouth against Cas as much as he can, their breathing turning rapid, the room suddenly way too hot. Dean has to adjust his legs to lean as much as he can into Cas, and in the process he grinds against Cas in a way that makes him groan gently in the back of his throat. The reaction just makes Dean push against him again, tongue sliding in between Cas’ lips at the same instance. 

Hands pull at Dean’s cheeks, pulling him closer and then moving into his hair and pulling. The panting, groaning noise in Cas’ throat happens again, and Dean is distinctly aware of the slick feeling in his boxers, which makes him press into Cas again, grinding a little more slowly against Cas’ spreading legs.

Dean thinks, at this moment, how although they don’t have sex often, when they do, it gets hot and heavy real fucking quick.

It was absolutely freezing in the room, but with how much they were breathing and how they were moving, they got way too hot very quickly. There was no reason to keep their clothes on now that they were hot, so they lost those as quickly as they could manage.

Only after Dean had come had he realized how connected he felt to Cas at that moment. Of course he felt close to Cas all the time, but in that moment it was the feeling of being as close as they possibly could be that made him want to stay in that moment for as long as possible.

The moment of ecstasy didn’t last long, and Cas always fell asleep after sex anyway, so he didn’t move very far. Even still breathing hard with Cas passed out against his chest, Dean felt his fingers moving over Cas’ skin and in feeling him breathing in the same tempo, he wanted what they just had, again.

Dean had long since accepted his slight addiction with sex, and he of course knew that Cas didn’t like sex all that much. That just made these moments with Cas more special, especially knowing that Cas was his and his alone.

Cas moves his head against Dean’s chest at that second, making a noise as he starts to wake up again. 

“Hey, Cas?” Dean whispers, and he hates the sound of his voice as it comes out. It sounds emotional, full of something he can’t place.

Cas seems to feel the same emotion that Dean can sense in his own voice, as he wakes up, pulling away to look at Dean right in the eyes. He reaches a hand out to touch Cas’ cheek, pressing his forehead against his to process his thoughts for a second.

“Dean,” Cas whispers in an unspoken question, his hand moving to touch his waist. 

“I’ve never told anyone this, before,” Dean hears himself whispering, and because of that, he starts to pull gently away. “I’ve been trying to get the courage to say it, because I don’t want… I don’t know.” He shakes his head, letting out a breath. “I’ve known this, probably since we started getting close, but… I love you. I really, really…” He trails off when Cas leans in to kiss him, a smile on his face that makes it hard to kiss.

Cas pulls away, staring at him with that familiar, unwavering look.

“I love you, too” Cas nods, fingers moving touch Dean’s chest. 

“Sorry it took so long,” Dean murmurs, earning a head shake from Cas.

“It could have taken you years, and it would have been worth it,” Cas smiles. He leans into Dean’s shoulder, lips murmuring against his skin, “I love you.”

Dean really takes that moment to relax, letting the period of calm settle in his bones and pull his eyelids closed.

The nap doesn’t last very long, perhaps an hour, and when Dean wakes up again, it’s to Cas pulling gently away from him.

“My family just got back,” Cas whispers, as Dean tries to pull him back. 

As Cas says that, Dean remembers Gabe telling him once about how none of their brothers realize that Cas isn’t a virgin anymore (and hasn’t been for a long time, before they had even met). The realization of that, and their overbearing protection over him, well, it would be extremely awkward to be found naked, in Cas’ bed. Sure, they’d get over it, but not right away. The embarrassment alone should be enough, but the eagle eyes on Dean for taking their “pure” Cas from them would be unbearable.

That thought makes Dean want to take a cold shower. The idea of anyone in Cas’ family finding him in bed with Cas makes his skin crawl. Even Gabe. As far as Gabe knew, they hadn’t had sex. Dean was sure that Gabe had no idea, or maybe he did, but he never talked or asked about it. 

It doesn’t help that Michael and Lucy still don’t completely trust Dean. It makes sense, of course it does, they want to protect Cas. They had started to trust Dean in the beginning, but he can see that it’s not 100% there. Showing up when it was supposed to be just Dean, Cas, and Cas’ mom, it’s obvious they want to make sure the both of them are safe.

Knowing what happened to Dean, who his father is, it doesn’t help at all. Obviously, there is a chance that Dean would be abusive, at least in Cas’ family’s eyes. Dean knows he would never do anything to hurt Cas, but no one except for Cas and Gabe knows that.

After Dean’s shower, Cas takes one, which just leaves him alone in Cas’ room. Although hungry, Dean does absolutely not want to go downstairs and have to deal with Cas’ brothers. He still isn’t completely sure how to act when he goes downstairs, whether to help himself or ask for food. There was always that uncertainty while meeting new people, and it doesn’t help that it reminds him of foster homes. He’d never had many friends, so he never had to deal with much of that. Just the group and foster homes. His mind always goes to that, the feeling of having a home but not being able to be comfortable there, not feeling completely at ease.

Dean was lying on Cas’ bed when Gabe decided to walk in. 

“Whatcha doin’?” Gabe asks, leaning on the doorframe.

“Hanging out,” Dean shrugs, glancing over at Gabe. A stupid grin fills his face, which just makes Dean frown. “What?”

“Nuthin’,” Gabe continues to grin.

Dean sighs and sits up, raising his eyebrows at Gabe, who continues to stare at him with that grin and that look that makes Dean’s skin crawl  _ even more _ than it had been already.  _ He knows,  _ Dean thinks.  _ He has to. _

“You know I was home all morning,” Gabe says. 

“I’m not surprised,” Dean rolls his eyes and flops back onto the bed. 

This only confirms what he already knows, since they hadn’t thought to be  _ quiet  _ while they were having sex. It’s not exactly something you think about consciously when in the middle of something that feels so good.

“I’m not going to tell Michael and Lucy, if that’s what you’re worried about,” Gabe says, walking into the room. “They’d throw a fit.”

“Again, not surprised,” Dean sighs once more.

“I don’t mean that as like…” Gabe starts, but trails off, like he knows there’s no use in trying to argue against what he knows will happen, which Dean doesn’t exactly know.

“What would happen, if they did find out?”

“Probably take Cas away from you, make sure you didn’t hurt him and all that,” Gabe shrugs, like it’s no big deal.

“How can I get them to trust me?” Dean murmurs, the question spilling out before he can stop himself.

“Just be yourself, Dean, that’s all you need to do,” Gabe has a smile in his voice that makes Dean turn to look at him. Gabe was looking at him like he was being worried for nothing, which in retrospect, maybe he was. The thing is, though, Cas’ brothers are  _ really fucking scary. _

“Jesus,” Dean whispers. He feels his body physically deflate when he looks back up again at Gabe to see him smirking. “Are you kidding me?”

“Maybe a little,” Gabe shrugs. “I don’t know if they’ll ever  _ really  _ like you, I gotta say.”

Dean sighs, rolling his eyes back to stare at the ceiling for a second.

“I gotta ask though,” Gabe sighs, speaking a little more softly. “Why’d it take you so long, man?”

This question makes Dean realize that Gabe really did not know that he and Cas had had sex before, a few times before in fact. This makes it a little easier to accept the fact that maybe Dean could keep it a secret for quite awhile longer, or at least not have sex with Cas again until his family trusts Dean enough to leave them alone.

While Dean thinks about his answer, he watches Gabe cross his arms over his chest, waiting. In the past, when Dean spent most nights sleeping with girl after girl, it wasn't exactly easy to hide it from Gabe. Sometimes Gabe would find a girl leaving, or find Dean coming back in the room in the morning, and Gabe would always ask where he'd been. When Dean told him, saying that he'd been with this girl or that girl, Gabe rolled his eyes. It was not exactly hard to figure out that Dean liked sex. 

Needless to say, this is probably the exact opposite to what he normally expects from Dean. It’s downright  _ weird,  _ judging from his past partners. Everything Dean thought about to convince himself not to become a sex fiend with Cas fades from his mind with that look from Gabe. It seems stupid now, especially when he hasn’t actually spoken with Cas about it.

“You’ve had more girlfriends in a month than I can count on both hands,” Gabe spits out, a malicious bite in his words. “What makes Cas so different?”

Dean opens his mouth, but just as he does that, the door opens, in stepping Cas himself. The look on his face not one of betrayal but one of confusion.

“Gabe, what the hell?” Cas asks, beating Dean to the punch. 

“He’s had more sex than the times he’s slept in his own bed,” Gabe replies, not missing a beat. “He’s an addict if I’ve ever seen one, and yet he doesn’t have sex with you, I wanted to know why.”

Cas frowns, but doesn’t reply to Gabe. Instead, his gaze shifts to look at Dean, which makes Dean’s heart drop into the pit of his stomach. The look is full of confusion and an intense look, like he’s being studied. 

As the two--Gabe and Cas--look at him, Dean feels the immediate need to run, but unfortunately the exit is blocked. No way out unless he explains.

“I just…” Dean starts, shrugging. “It seemed like you didn’t like sex all that much, and liked cuddling more so I just…” He shakes his head a little. The explanation and the weight in the words loses its traction before it started, making Cas frown harder.

“Why did you think I didn’t like sex?” Cas asks, his head shaking a little.

Now that he’s asked the question, Dean suddenly has no idea. His mind is racing and he can’t pinpoint on a specific answer. It’s like walking into a test wearing nothing but his underwear and still being made to take the test, with the questions belonging to a subject he didn’t study for, in a language he doesn’t speak. Suddenly, nothing makes sense.

“I’ve never had a boyfriend before, so I guess I just--” Dean starts.

_ “You’re  _ a dude,” Gabe interrupts him, “you should know when a guy wants to have sex.” The statement  _ really  _ catches Dean off guard, and again, he’s silent.

“If you thought I didn’t want to have sex, then it must mean you didn’t want to have sex with me, right?” Cas asks, the question making Dean’s mouth immediately open to fight the preposterous assumption.

“No, of course not--”

“Then why?” Cas practically shouts at him, making Dean jump a little. Cas corrects himself, but Dean already feels himself separating from the conversation. 

With his raised voice, Dean’s mind begins to drift apart, a distinct fogginess drifting into his mind that results from him wanting to be somewhere else. It feels like a few minutes that he’s away in this land of no noise, no sense of  _ being,  _ but in reality it’s only a split second.

“I didn’t want to make you do anything you didn’t want to do,” Dean whispers, feeling his chest begin to tighten.

“Why couldn’t you have let me decide that for myself?” Cas asks, malice still in his voice that makes Dean dissociate further.

The moment of time that he’s away in the fog, he barely hears the foot steps coming up the stairs and then the gentle knock at the door. He vaguely feels the sensation of his head tilting up to look at the figure in the doorway, seeing the curly haired Lucifer standing there, concerned.

“Everything okay in here?” His voice breaks Dean from the fog for a second.

Dean starts to walk. He moves forwards and past the two in the room, past Lucifer standing in the doorway, and down the stairs. He takes his coat at the door and leaves, just like that, pulling on his coat and pulling out his cigarettes in one swift motion.

It’s cold, but he doesn’t feel it. His eyes start to blur, but he doesn’t notice. He angrily pulls at his cigarette and keeps staring forwards, until he reaches his car. Although he wants to, he doesn’t go inside, mostly because he doesn’t want to stink her up with all kinds of ash and smoke. That would be a disaster, and the only conscious thing he can think  _ not  _ to do.

In this moment, he’s completely away from reality. His mind feels like a physical version of the static on a television screen, where there’s a picture on the screen, but maybe not what you really need to see right now.

He slides to the asphalt, back leaning against Baby’s driver's side door. He wants to cry but it doesn’t feel right. He already feels weak, and he doesn’t want to continue that streak. Tears always meant weakness, and he’d already spent so many on his father thus far, no need adding to the mix.

Yelling always made him think of his father. Sometimes panic attacks came from the yelling, sometimes episodes like this. All he wanted was to be  _ away,  _ and this is how he did it. Away in a mental sense, pushing himself as far away from the physical as he could.

Footsteps sound from the distance, towards Cas’ house, but Dean doesn’t realize what the noise is, or even that it’s there until the steps stop next to him. It takes him another couple seconds to tilt his head back and look at the figure. Cas.

Dean looks away when he sees it’s him, not sure what he wants to say to him. As it turns out, he doesn’t have to say anything.

“I’m sorry for raising my voice,” Cas whispers. “I didn’t need to, I was upset in the moment and it made me react that way.” He sighs gently, but it’s not a sigh that means he’s annoyed, it’s just a thoughtful sigh, one that says he’s thinking about what he wants to say next, what he needs it to mean. “I realize it probably upset you a lot, and I want to say that I didn’t mean it. I just… can I explain where I’m coming from? Why I got mad?”

Dean turns to blink up at Cas, waiting.

“Everyone chooses for me.” Cas shakes his head, hands clenching. “My family. My brothers. They choose my friends and make sure to keep a close eye on me whenever I get close to someone.

“I liked you from the moment I met you, and I knew my family would make it hard for us to be alone together, and…” he sighs, trailing off a little. “Hearing that you just assumed I didn’t like sex, I thought that I was an easy way out for you. Like you didn’t have to date girls, and by dating me and not really having sex, it was like we weren’t really dating--”

He cuts himself off as Dean opens his mouth to protest. Cas sighs, and this time it’s a little more forced. 

“Cas, you know that’s not true,” Dean whispers, finding his voice in that moment. “I really did assume and I’m really sorry for that, I just… I wanted to get to know you, find out who you were as a person and not just fuck you and leave.” Dean shakes his head gently. He’s talking to the asphalt, but it’s still the truth. 

“I’ve had sex with lots of girls, but it hardly meant anything to me. I didn’t get to know them, I didn’t want to know them.” Dean shakes his head again, a one sided shrug happening at the same time. “I like spending time with you, and hearing you talk and listening to your laugh. I didn’t think about sex with you because being with you is more than amazing.”

His eyes twitch up to see Cas smile, and in that moment, Cas decides to walk forwards and sit next to him. Dean realizes that he’s wearing a thin sweatshirt, and a pair of converse with no socks. His hair is still wet.

“You’re going to get sick,” Dean whispers, reaching over to pull the hood over Cas’ head. 

Cas catches Dean’s hand as he tries to pull it away and holds it tight between his. The apologetic look doesn’t fade from Cas’ eyes, and Dean starts to feel an overwhelming sense of regret from walking out like he did.

“I’m sorry for just walking out,” Dean whispers. “I felt really trapped, and when Lucy opened the door, I just…”

“Escaped,” Cas whispers back, nodding. “I’m sorry for putting you in that position. I didn’t realize what I was doing.” 

Dean is about to open his mouth to forgive him, but he doesn’t get the chance. Instead, Cas squeezes his hand a little more tightly.

“Are you okay?” Cas whispers, his eyes looking over at the cigarette in Dean’s other hand. In order not to waste it, Dean puts it between his lips to pull a little more gently at it, much less aggressively than a few minutes before.

“Yelling always reminds me of my dad,” Dean whispers, after he lets out the smoke, careful not to blow it at Cas. “Loud noises…” Dean lets out a trembling breath, “gun shots.”

Cas’ fingers tighten a little.

“It just takes me awhile to recover, if that makes sense.” Dean finishes, looking down at the cigarette in his fingers. “Sorry for smoking at your house.”

“I think you’re allowed to smoke a little,” Cas whispers, a gentle smile on his face that tells Dean he doesn’t actually care that he’s smoking. “But it… didn’t really seem like a panic attack,” Cas shakes his head.

“It wasn’t, not really,” Dean shakes his head back at Cas. “When I don’t have a panic attack, I dissociate. My brain just like… leaves for a second. Like I’m trying to pretend I’m not where I am.”

Cas nods, his shoulders lowering ever so slightly. Without him saying so, Dean knows exactly what Cas wants to say, that he knows what that’s like. The look on his face explains all of that, accepting that Dean knows something he knows as well.

It takes a few seconds more for Cas to respond, but Dean doesn’t mind. He finds himself focusing on the feeling of Cas’ warm hand in his, and the sensation of the cold asphalt underneath his backside and his legs. The feeling of being grounded, just sitting here, is strangely comforting. Feeling alive, coming back to reality, it’s honestly really, really nice.

“The last time I saw my dad was over a year ago,” Cas whispers, shaking his head a little. “But one time… one of my mom’s friends was over, and she like,” Cas winces, “playfully hit my shoulder or something. She didn’t mean anything by it, it just like…

“I couldn’t figure out what I was supposed to do, like my brain just went blank. It was pretty scary. I think I lost like an hour, just… spacing out.” Cas looks back up at Dean, who just nods in understanding.

Dean tugs at the cigarette, until it finally reaches the filter. It’s a little bitter sweet, digging the filter into the asphalt as he blows out the last bit of smoke. He wants to light another one, but he refrains, knowing he probably already smells like smoke, not to mention Cas as well. 

A thought pops in his mind, wondering why exactly Cas’ family doesn’t like smokers, but he stops himself from asking. He’s not sure he wants to know, like maybe Cas’ father smoked or something, and that makes them hate all smokers. It was something Dean had been meaning to ask for a while, but he doesn’t want to know that they literally hate all smokers for a terrible reason like that. But hey, maybe that would really make him want to quit?

“Why did you not want me to smoke around your family?” Dean asks, kind of softly. The question makes Cas smile genuinely, not at all how Dean thought he would react.

“Because it’s gross,” Cas smiles a little wider with Dean’s eyeroll. “And it’s bad for you.”

“Yeah, that’s true,” Dean nods.

“Are you going to smoke another or can we go inside?” 

“We can go inside,” Dean agrees, following Cas to his feet.


	13. A Little Fun

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> some cutesy smutty stuff before some serious shit ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯

_ They tried to break us, _

_ Looks like they'll try again _

_ Wild boys never lose it. _

_ (Wild Boys by Duran Duran) _

\--

 

Dean quickly discovered that Lucy hadn’t heard anything they were talking about in Cas’ bedroom. Although the walls were really thin and you could hear voices through them, you couldn’t always hear exactly what was being said. Lucy, Michael, and Cas’ mother all heard Cas and Gabe both raising their voices, but not what was being talked about.

This was extremely comforting to Dean on  _ so  _ many levels. 

The argument and the immediate conclusion made Dean not only want to be more careful as far as having sex under Cas’ mother’s roof, but Cas seemed to want the exact opposite. Not that Dean minded, necessarily, but Cas became a little more open in being intimate around his family.

It started the night of the argument&conclusion when Cas decided to sit almost entirely on Dean’s lap while they were watching TV. Of course, this was incredibly adorable as far as Dean was concerned and just adjusted his body to make it more comfortable. This in turn lead to them lying together and cuddling together on the couch while a movie played in the background. 

With his family just in the other room, Cas decided to kiss Dean with his hands pulling Dean’s waist towards him. Dean allowed him just about five seconds of this before he pulled away with a soft warning.

“Your brothers are way too close,” Dean smiles, earning a frown from Cas. 

“They wouldn’t care,” Cas insists, earning a scoff.

“Please, no they definitely would,” Dean replies, and before Cas can try to argue anymore, Dean leans in to whisper in Cas’ ear. “I’ll kiss you for an hour straight when they’re not in the room, okay?”

“Promise?” Cas asks, hands moving up Dean’s chest. 

“Promise,” Dean replies, closing his eyes as he buries his face into Cas’ shoulder.

That moment comes sooner than expected, when Michael decides he wants to watch some sports game Cas and Dean both could care less about. 

Cas just takes the opportunity to pull Dean up the stairs with the claim that they’re going to watch a movie, which wasn’t  _ exactly  _ a lie. They have a movie playing on a laptop on the edge of the bed, but they’re both _completely_ ignoring it.

Following through with his promise, Dean starts his hour long kissing agreement. 

He starts slow, first by kissing Cas as they were laying down and facing each other. It doesn’t take Cas long at all to get impatient, which Dean finds incredibly hilarious. He kisses him like this for as long as Cas seems to be able to handle it. Even at that point Dean continues kissing him slowly, carefully, making sure to enunciate every move and grind.

Dean swipes his tongue along Cas’ lips, still moving slowly, carefully. His hand was on Cas’ cheek, thumb caressing him softly, taking care to focus on the gentle movements. Cas actually gasps a little when he opens his mouth for Dean’s tongue, accepting it slowly and gasping with the sensation. Their hot breath mingles together, wet mouths connecting in careful consideration.

A hand moves along Dean’s backside, pulling him more into Cas’ waist. The uncomfortable tightness in his jeans makes him move closer, the rubbing sensation making him push more into Cas, both into his mouth and against his groin. 

Dean pushes Cas onto his back, one of Cas’ legs falling in between Dean’s. With their lips still connected, Dean focuses most of his energy into the kiss, like he promised. He moves against Cas, grinding naturally from moving against his mouth, though it reaches the point when he has to pull away to be able to take a deep breath. He isn’t sure how much time has passed, though it doesn’t feel very long at all.

Rather than taking much of a break at all, Dean moves to kiss Cas’ neck. He can feel how hard Cas is breathing, plus the heat of his body that seems to increase tenfold whenever he’s turned on. The heat invades every inch of Dean’s body, making him hot and wanting desperately to take his clothes off. This is not, however, about him right now.

Dean breathes hot air into Cas’ neck, grinding again into Cas so he groans gently in complaint. He continues to kiss Cas’ neck instead, pulling back the collar of Cas’ shirt slightly to bite at his chest, where it’s a little more hidden, where Cas’ brothers wouldn’t notice. The sudden thought of,  _ oh god his brothers,  _ makes Dean hesitate, just slightly. It’s just enough that Cas notices, but before he says anything, Dean moves to kiss him again.

The question on Cas’ face disappears when Dean moves back in to kiss his lips, this time Dean moves a little harder, a little more aggressive with the kisses against his lips.

His pants get tighter, which he had no idea was even possible. Had he ever really done something like this before? Kissed someone,  _ just  _ kissed someone, not only because he wanted to but because he wanted to annoy the person he was kissing? By kissing Cas like this, promising him  _ an hour  _ of only kissing, it was giving Dean the opportunity to see how annoyed he could make Cas, to kiss him till it bothered him. 

Dean, of course, knew that Cas would not be bothered by the amount of kissing he would receive. From what Dean had gathered from Cas’ past relationships, he hadn’t ever really been… what was the word? Pampered? Maybe that was it. Maybe that’s exactly what Dean wanted to do to him.

At this moment Dean pulls back from Cas’ lips to again kiss at his neck. He follows the curve of his jaw, pressing his lips along his collarbone, and finding the bottom of his shirt to push up and up until he can see the entirety of Cas’ bare chest. 

Cas’ fingers stay locked in Dean’s hair, gripping gently at the roots and pushing him down against his skin, where Dean peppers him with kisses and gentle nips at his skin. He moves painfully slowly, teasing Cas so vehemently that Cas starts digging his fingers harder into Dean’s scalp. As Dean moves down the length of Cas’ torso, moving towards his stomach, below his bellybutton, Cas pelvis starts to buck ever so slightly.

Through his jeans, Dean can see Cas straining, and it’s no doubt as uncomfortable, if not more, than Dean himself was experiencing. Because of this reason, Dean moves lower, pulling just slightly on the top of Cas’ pants, revealing the top inch of his skin beneath his pants. His lips connect, and Dean runs his tongue over a small area of skin once before kissing again, and again.

His fingers reach for the button to pull at, to reveal Cas and relieve him somehow---

The only thing that stops Dean is his cell phone, violently beeping and breaking the trance. Cas freezes and Dean pulls away, pulling at his phone in his pocket to turn the alarm off.

He looks down at Cas, who is giving him the angriest glare Dean has  _ ever  _ seen.

“You’re the worst,” Cas whispers, moving his shirt down so his stomach is covered again.

Dean smiles and puts his phone away, starting to move back down on his hands and knees. His fingers reach for Cas’ waist again, but Cas won’t have that: he bats his hands away and continues to glare.

“Hey, I can’t finish what I started?” Dean asks, raising his eyebrows at Cas, along with his hands, palms out in a peace position.

“No,” Cas grumbles, already pulling away and getting off the bed. “Who sets an alarm when you’re making out, anyway?”

Dean laughs and catches Cas’ hand gently, pulling him back. This time he slowly steps into Cas’ space, his other hand around his waist to pull him in close.

“I’m sorry,” Dean smiles, “I didn’t think it would go off right then.”

“Sure you didn’t,” Cas whispers back. 

“I didn’t, I swear.” His hands move over Cas’ backside, pulling him close. “C’mon, let me finish what I started.” Dean hums gently with a  _ hm? _ , moving in to kiss Cas’ neck again. This time he kisses him once, slowly, on the neck, moving up to his jaw, then to press his forehead against Cas’ forehead. 

Cas opens his mouth to respond to the offer, but he doesn’t get the chance to reply. In that second, Cas’ mother calls down from the bottom of the stairs, telling them that dinner is ready.

“Maybe we can finish later,” Dean murmurs, pressing a peck into Cas’ lips once more.


	14. Christmas Eve Conversations

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i've been nonstop writing for like a week now. sorrynotsorryforalltheseupdates
> 
> ps sorry for not really writing cas' mom, i dont really know how to write her so i keep it as limited as possible lmao (if you really want to see actual dialogue from her lemme know and i'll figure it out, im just too lazy atm)

_ Once I had a love and it was divine _

_ Soon found out I was losing my mind _

_...and I’m feeling fine _

_ Love is so confusing there’s no peace of mind _

_ (Heart of Glass by Blondie) _

 

\--

 

Dean wakes up on Christmas Eve and realizes there has been no news from the police about John. Of course, Dean isn’t surprised. John was always a good survivalist, an incredibly good hider and even better at living off the grid. If he didn’t want to be found, there was a good chance he was never going to be.

With it being so close to Christmas, it gets weird, really quickly. Not because Dean isn’t really a Christian, but because of the questions that Cas’ family wants to know about Dean’s family. About his family’s traditions, what he does this time of year, all that.

“Mom,” Cas sighs, when she asks about what Dean does for Christmas.

“It’s okay,” Dean smiles, “my uncle is a pagan, so we don’t celebrate Christmas.”

“Oh, that’s so interesting,” Cas’ mother says, actually seeming to be interested in it. She continues through the morning asking more questions about their severe lack of organized religion, until the conversation turns (thankfully) away from Dean.

At least for awhile.

It’s not long before he catches Lucy staring at him, but Dean does his best to ignore it and keep listening to everyone else talk. Out of all the brothers, Lucifer worried Dean the most. His name  _ alone  _ should have scared him, but of course he had to be menacing in look as well.

He was tall and had the aura of “don’t fuck with me” written on his forehead. If you so much as looked at him the wrong way, your bones would quake when you realized it, like you’d been cursed. 

Needless to say, Dean wanted to avoid talking to Lucy for  _ as long  _ as he possibly could, which wasn’t actually long at all.

In no time at all, Cas’ mom was getting up to go check on something in the kitchen, which for some reason required Cas’ help as well. Then, two seconds after the two left, Gabe got up to go do something upstairs. Lo and behold, the only ones left in the living room became Lucy, Michael, and Dean.

Without a word, Lucy stands up and walks over to Dean, sitting down beside him on the couch. He leans back into the couch and spreads his arms out over the back of it, looking like he was relaxing, though in actuality, Dean knows it’s a sign of dominance. It rubs him the wrong way, more than Lucy’s natural presence already does.

For a little while (probably three seconds) Dean does his best to ignore Lucy. It ends quickly with a gentle sigh from Lucy, and Dean refrains from rolling his eyes.

“So, Dean,” Lucy starts. His inflection tells Dean he’s waiting for him to acknowledge Lucy, which Dean gives him, just by turning his head a little to raise his eyebrows at him.

“You’re a smoker,” Lucy says, earning a nod from Dean. “You’re going to stop, right?” 

Dean turns to look at Lucy again, then glance at Michael, who’s simply watching him. Looking back to Lucy, Dean sees how serious he is, and suddenly he isn’t sure what to say or do. He never had any intention of stopping, maybe one day in the future, but this makes him want to stop even less.

“Maybe,” Dean says, turning his head away.

“Maybe?” Lucy repeats, in a way that makes Dean think of game shows.  _ Bzzt! Wrong answer, champ! _

“Yeah, maybe,” Dean replies, eyes trained on the TV in front of him. “Maybe I’ll quit one day but right now I have no reason to. Maybe,” he takes this second to look at Lucy, “I’d like to have a little control over my life for once.”

He rolls his eyes a little at Lucy’s incredulous look, and takes the opportunity to stand up. Rather than going to complain to Gabe or running off to have Cas save him, Dean puts on his coat and shoes and walks outside. Go figure, for a smoke.

The door doesn’t even close completely before someone else steps out behind him, and Dean steals a glance to see Michael. He looks less business-like than he did the first time they met, more like your average Joe than business tycoon. His blonde hair was missing the gel and he’d traded his business suit for jeans and a sweatshirt, now adding a thicker coat over top of it to keep the cold out. 

He heads straight for Dean, offering what could only be considered a  _ nice  _ smile. 

“Not here to yell at’cha, don’t worry,” Michael says, a smile still in his voice. 

Dean does his best to ignore him and pull on his cigarette. Having another person here just made him more anxious, not less. 

“He means well,” Michael says gently, like that’s supposed to mean something to Dean. “He thinks…” Michael sighs. “Lucifer thinks he knows everything, what’s best for everyone, what everyone should do.”

“He seems like the type,” Dean replies, not realizing what he said before Michael actually laughs out loud.

“It may surprise you, but he’s pretty Straight-Edge,” Michael tells Dean. “A vegan, y’know, all that. He likes purity, health. No one will ever be good enough for Cas in his eyes.”

Dean feels his arm drop, and he gently flicks at the cigarette, watching the ashes fall to the ground. It’s not like he didn’t  _ know,  _ but the fact of the matter is that he’d never heard it out loud, never said it out loud. Dean is in this for the long run, and it’s like no one knew that but him and Cas.

Rather than speaking, Dean says nothing. He brings the cigarette to his lips again and inhales slowly. The silence in the air is too much, but he doesn’t know what to say, if he can say anything at all.

“Honestly,” Michael whispers, “I’ve never seen Cas as happy as he is with you. The couple people he’s dated, they always broke up quickly, ended really ugly. But… you get him. I can see that he’s really comfortable with you.” Michael shrugs a shoulder, and that’s when Dean realizes he’s staring at Michael. “That’s why I like you, Dean, why I’m not acting like Lucifer. I want you and Cas to be together.”

“Thanks,” Dean mumbles, earning a little nod from Michael.

Michael reaches over to pat Dean’s shoulder, and in the same motion starts to walk away from him, heading back inside. Amazingly, Dean is left alone for awhile, allowed to smoke as slowly as he wants to. 

His phone starts ringing then, and when he pulls it out, he smiles at the caller ID.

“Hey, Sammy,” Dean says, his voice a little more husky than normal, so he coughs a little. The cold air plus the cigarette doesn’t help much.

“Jeez, what was that?” Sam asks, a laugh in his voice. 

“Sorry, I’m outside, it’s cold.” 

“Why’re you outside?” Sam asks, some papers rustling in the background. Dean assumes he’s either doing homework, or (more likely) he was told to clean his room and he’s avoiding it.

“Smoking a cigarette,” Dean replies, earning a scoff from Sam.

“Ew, what the hell?”

“I know it’s gross,” Dean sighs. “Don’t be me, okay?”

“Done and done.”

“Ha-ha, smart ass,” Dean rolls his eyes, but can’t help smiling at the same time. “What’re you up to?”

It’s been awhile since they spoke, but they fall into the same pattern as always. Talking on the phone like this, doing the familiar thing and checking in with each other. It settles right in his gut, and Dean realizes how much he misses his brother. It could be cold as hell or the opposite, and Dean would still sit outside and talk on the phone with Sam. He’d do anything to see him again, or even just to talk on the phone, he’d go to great lengths just to hear his voice.

Knowing it’s Christmas tomorrow, and knowing he won’t get to see Sam this year, it makes his heart heavy. Like his heart is turning to stone, it hurts. It hurts so much.

“Sammy, can I talk to you about something?” Dean asks, during a lull in the conversation.

“Sure,” Sam says, his voice getting a little soft. Then, when Dean doesn’t continue, he whispers, “Dean?”

“I uh… don’t know how to phrase it,” Dean says quickly. “Sorry, I’m trying to sort out my thoughts. Um.”

Dean sighs, his cigarette long gone so he can’t even pull on that for a bit of comfort. Instead, he scratches his head a little, frowning down at the asphalt at his feet.

“You remember me telling you about my friend Cas?” Dean starts, thinking hey, maybe that’s a good place to start. 

“Yeah,” Sam says, but the way he says it makes Dean wonder where Sam thinks he’s going with this. Maybe something horrible like he’s sick or died or something.  _ Dammit, don’t go there. _

“Okay, so,” Dean sighs. “We’re dating. I just… wanted you to know.”

Sam pauses, but Dean hears a sound on the other end that sounds like a smile. 

“What, so you’re gay now?” Sam asks, that smile sound in his voice still. The question makes not only Dean laugh, but Sam as well. Relief fills Dean’s chest in an instant.

“I’m at his house for Christmas,” Dean explains. “His family just gave me shit for smoking, so I’m glad you called.”

“Maybe they’re giving you shit ‘cause it’s nasty,” Sam says. 

“Yeah, maybe.” Dean grins in hearing his brother’s playfulness, glad he’s still, well, Sam.

“Isn’t his brother your roommate?” Sam asks, which makes Dean laugh.

“Yeah.”

“What the hell,” Sam groans. “Isn’t that gross?”

“It’s not like we’re having sex with him in the room,” Dean laughs again, then once more when Sam makes a feigned puking noise.

“I do not want to hear about your sex life, thanks,” Sam groans. 

“Are you seeing anybody?” Dean asks, before the moment passes. 

Sam rarely talks about school or his friends. It hurts Dean a little, and he wonders if it’s partly his fault. Not having a brother to talk to and live with, he wonders if that makes it hard to be friends with people. It hits home with the next thing Sam says, confirming all of Dean’s fears.

“Please, no one wants to be friends with me, let alone date me,” Sam sounds like he rolls his eyes as he says it. 

“I’m sure that’s not true.”

“It is, it totally is. I move around too much, it’s not like anyone wants to be friends with the freak with the dad that walks around with a gun on his belt,” Sam doesn’t say it maliciously, but it makes Dean jump a little.

“Rufus walks around with a gun?” Dean says softly.

“Yes.”

Dean rolls his eyes, but his heart leaps at the same time. This is definitely not something he needed to hear right now, or ever. 

“I’m not the one using it, if that’s what you’re worried about,” Sam continues quickly, however softly. “Like, he’s just a weird guy who likes his guns, I don’t know.”

Dean sighs, a little harder than he intended, and it makes Sam sigh right back. Sam doesn’t say anything for a few seconds, and in that time period it makes Dean question every move he’s made until this point. Why did he have to leave Sam? Why couldn’t they have been together?

“Jeez, Dean, say something.” Sam whispers.

“Sorry,” Dean says, realizing how long he’d been spacing out for. “I just… guns freak me out.”

“I know,” Sam says quickly. “That’s kind of why I didn’t tell you till now.”

Although Sam can’t see him, Dean nods. Imagining Sam in a house with a gun, with a man who keeps a gun on his belt at all times, he’s  _ terrified  _ that something will happen to Sam. Especially since Sam isn’t with Dean. He can’t protect him. If he gets hurt, Dean can’t help him. What if something bad happens to him while they’re apart? What if he dies and he never---

“Dean!” Sam yells on the other end.

“Ah, sorry,” Dean says again.

“Jesus, are you okay? You keep like…” Sam starts, then pauses as he trails off. “Do you dissociate when things remind you of John?”

The question catches Dean entirely off guard.

“Um,” Dean starts, “how did you…”

“I’ve been in therapy for like, ever, Dean,” Sam says matter-of-factly, again with that tone of voice that sounds like he's rolling his eyes. “It doesn’t happen to me, but my therapist explained that it happens to people sometimes when they’ve been abused for a long time.”

Obviously, Dean knows that about himself. He was in therapy for a little while, it didn’t help all that much, so he stopped. He did enough to know what was happening, what it was called, and then a little bit of the process to get around to accepting his various trauma and then… he stopped. He couldn’t do therapy anymore. It got to be too much, got to the point where talking about it no longer helped. It felt too repetitive, too bothersome to keep talking about.

It comforts him a little to know that Sam’s still going through with it. Being in therapy would definitely help him a lot, and not having friends, well… either that would add to it or detract, Dean isn’t sure, but in the long run, therapy will help him a lot. By the time he gets to college, it’ll be okay.

“It doesn’t happen all the time,” Dean says softly. “It… happened really bad yesterday and I think I still haven’t really…”

“What happened yesterday?”

“It was stupid.”

“Obviously not because it triggered you.” 

That makes Dean sigh again.

“It was an accident, but essentially I was cornered in a room while a couple people were yelling at me,” Dean tries to pick his words carefully, but still screws up. “Yelling isn’t a good word. It was more like they were… loudly speaking their thoughts at me.”

“Mm,” Sam says, thoughtful. “Like John?”

“Not exactly,” Dean replies. “John yells like everything you do is a problem, even if you didn’t do anything wrong.”

On the other end, Sam murmurs his agreement.

“In this case it was…” Dean sighs softly. “It was Cas. He was upset with me, and he raised his voice a little.”

“He didn’t mean it, though.”

“No. We talked it out afterwards,” Dean lets out a breath, less like a sigh now and more like a simple breathing exercise. He does that a few times, in and out, again and again. “Thank fuck a car didn’t backfire or something outside, ‘cause I don’t know what I’d do if that happened.”

“Panic attack maybe?”

“Maybe worse than what was already happening, yeah,” Dean acknowledges it without thinking much about it. “Or like, jump out the window or something.”

Sam actually laughs at that. It’s a nice sound, and Dean is happy to be away from the talk of John and of his panic attack, even if it was just for a second.

Being in a position of vulnerability like this, being called out on his mental health by his little brother, it doesn’t make Dean feel very good. It hurts, a lot. He’s supposed to be tough, be strong, especially in front of Sam. There are things Dean is supposed to do, and one of them is not to show weakness. He’s failed at so many things: leaving Sam, letting him down, allowing John to find him, and now, showing Sam his vulnerabilities.

They talk a little more, but it’s like Sam can see straight through his bullshit. He keeps asking him benign questions, when lulls happen he allows the silence to last for a long time and then continues to talk. The increasing panic Dean is starting to feel makes him light another cigarette, and makes the conversation more unbearable.

He’s been talking to Sam for over an hour and a half, and he realizes how cold it is. He’d long since been sitting on the ground outside Cas’ house, but for some reason he didn’t notice the temperature until now. Rather than feel it, he notices it when he finishes his second cigarette, and sees that his breath steams as he exhales. At first he had thought it was smoke, but that made no sense since he wasn’t smoking at the time.

“Dean,” Sam whispers, after another particularly long gap of silence.

“Yeah, Sammy,” Dean replies.

“After I graduate, can I come live with you?”

“Sure,” Dean replies, almost immediately. “By then I’ll be out of college, so wherever you wanna go to school, I’ll go there, too. We can have an apartment, anywhere you want.” 

“Thanks,” Sam says softly. 

On the other end of the phone, Dean hears Rufus’ voice calling to Sam, something he can’t understand. Despite not hearing it, Dean knows that this means their conversation is over, at least for a little while.

Sam tells him goodbye, but it’s long. He waits for awhile before saying he has to go, and even longer before he hangs up, like he doesn’t want to be the one to do it. That rarely happens, when Sam gets any kind of sentimental, or draws out his goodbyes. Dean can’t help but feel like it’s his fault, that Sam is worrying about him and hoping he’s not upset that Sam has to go.

After Sam hangs up, Dean sits there for a long time, staring out into the parking lot across the way, watching the winter creatures settle and the sun set.

Eventually, Cas comes to find him. He doesn’t really do anything, not at first. He walks over slowly, sitting down beside Dean on the step, and doesn’t say a word. He does realize that Cas is actually wearing a jacket, though he seems like he’s shivering a little, so Dean reaches over to take his hand.

“How can you just sit out here in the cold?” Cas whispers, teeth chattering.

“Grew up like this,” Dean shakes his head. “Didn’t have heat when we wanted it, most of the time.”

Cas lets out a breath, as if letting the words hang.

“Did you grow up with guns, too?” Cas asks, surprising Dean a bit. 

Dean turns to look at Cas, watching his careful, steady gaze stay centered on Dean. His face is serious, his eyes, bright and curious. The can of worms he’s about to unleash, well, Dean doesn’t know where to begin.

“Yeah,” Dean whispers, looking away. “We used to go hunting, before things got really bad. Uh…” Dean shakes his head a little. “After, John started drinking more and when he started hitting us…”

“You don’t have to tell me,” Cas says softly, which makes Dean turn to look at him. “You’re not obligated.”

“I want to,” Dean whispers.

He takes a breath, his eyes drifting away again.

“It wasn’t very long before I had to start sleeping with a gun under my pillow,” Dean starts again. “We were living in some pretty shitty places, and when John came home, I never knew what was gonna happen.

“Long story short, one night we were trying to go to bed, and John came home. I didn’t even know it was him till he started yelling about everything he always yells about. Wanting to find who killed our mom and wanting his son back and blah blah blah.” Dean waves his hand a little flippantly. “I knew what was coming so I took the gun from out under the pillow and pointed it at him, and… I shot at him.”

“You didn’t hit him, though,” Cas guesses, which makes Dean smile and look at him.

“Oh, I hit him, alright,” Dean nods. “His arm. I was too scared to kill him.”

Dean sighs and leans back a little.

“It was after that that made Bobby and everyone really realize something was up,” Dean glances over at their hands woven together. “Rufus took Sam, and Bobby took me and… that’s that.”

Cas lets out a deep breath and squeezes Dean’s hand. He’s thinking about what has been said, Dean knows. It’s hard to say something like that and have something to say immediately. It’s impossible to think of a response in an instant.

Rather than feel uncomfortable by the silence, Dean actually finds it very comforting. Now that he’s said what he’s basically been keeping a secret for years, well, it feels good. He wants to be more honest, he  _ wishes  _ he could be more honest, all the time, but it’s so incredibly hard that there’s almost no place to begin. This, although small, is a good place to start.

“Do you wish things turned out differently?” Cas whispers. “Like if…” his voice turns wobbly, and Dean looks at him, fighting back tears. His hand is crushing Dean’s, and it’s jarring, at first.

“Things happen for a reason, Cas,” Dean whispers back, semi-jokingly. 

“I hate that,” Cas hisses. “I hate when people say that.”

“Me, too,” Dean sighs.

“It still hurts,” Cas whispers, shaking his head. “People act like we’re fine but we’re fucked up. We’re  _ fucked up,  _ Dean,” he turns to look at Dean, eyes wide and  _ so _ sad. “ _ Things  _ happen and we just get worse.”

Dean watches Cas for a second, watching him stare hard and in an instant Dean knows something happened while he was out here talking with Sam. Three seconds pass before Dean realizes he’s staring, watching Cas freak out silently beside him. The only way Dean can look at Cas and describe his expression is just that,  _ freaked out. _

Hearing these words from Cas, as well, that worries Dean even more. Sure, okay, Dean knows he’s kind of messed up, and all the things that happened to him definitely screwed him up in a bunch of ways. Cas went through something similar, and all his siblings went through basically the same, or at least they just grew up around the guy that abused Cas for years. That’s gotta mess them up, too, and well… from what Dean already knows about how Lucy feels about him, Dean can’t help but feel that something probably happened surrounding  _ that _ topic.

_ That  _ topic being the fact that Lucy doesn’t want Cas dating Dean. Dean immediately starts to wonder if Cas is starting to get those thoughts too, like they’re not good together, or they’re both fucked up in just the perfect concoction that they aren’t compatible.

Dean turns to look away, still thinking about what Cas has said. He stares out into the darkness, wondering if this is how he was going to spend Christmas, breaking up with Cas when this is genuinely the happiest he’s ever been.

“Sure, we’re fucked, but don’t we get to have the opportunity to heal before people decide whether or not we’re fine?” Dean asks, still holding Cas’ hand. He realizes he still is when Cas squeezes his hand a little.

“What if we never get better,” Cas whispers venomously, causing Dean to look at him. He really looks upset, worse than a few seconds ago.

“Did something happen while I was out here?”

At first, Cas doesn’t say anything, his eyes simply twitch up, staring at Dean and his chest moving up and down quickly. Slight panic attack, maybe?

_ Just great,  _ Dean thinks.  _ Panic attack on panic attack. Maybe it’s because of his family. Too many people under one roof. _

“Wanna go for a drive?” Dean asks, and Cas nods, very quickly.


	15. Feel Something

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's been a busy week. I have too much to do but I promised I would upload so here it is;;;;
> 
> The next chapter is causing me a bit of grief so i'll probs upload this weekend
> 
> Also not sure how many chapters this will be? i'll let you know when i figure it out

_ I thought I was mistaken _

_ And I thought I heard your words _

_ Tell me, how do I feel? _

_ Tell me now, how do I feel? _

_ (Blue Monday by New Order) _

 

\--

 

The best thing about winter, in Dean’s opinion, is that everything is so quiet. There’s no one on the roads at night, and although it’s cold, it’s almost nice to roll down all the windows to hear nothing but the engine roar. He doesn't do this now, but he wants to. Maybe the noise would drown out the thoughts racing endlessly through his head.

The ride is silent between them, for awhile. Cas made it obvious, without words, that he wasn’t sure what exactly he wanted to say about what happened while Dean wasn’t in the house. Something had happened, obviously. There was no denying that.

Cas had texted his mother to tell her that he and Dean were going for a drive, and that was that. He was silent after he told Dean what he had done.

Dean doesn’t mind. He has to admit that much. He likes quiet, and he likes driving, so being quiet and driving? No problem. 

Where Cas lives, there’s an endless forest of trees on every side. In the darkness, it’s a little scary to see nothing but black and the tall canopy of looming branches overhead, however there’s bit of comfort in it as well. There’s a certain nostalgia in the forest, remembering times when John didn’t hit them, and instead brought them camping, teaching them how to hunt and live off of what nature gave them.

It’s in a particularly long stretch of forest that Cas whispers, almost too quietly, for Dean to pull over somewhere.

“Just anywhere, or is there someplace you want me to go?” Dean asks, the silence hanging for a bit too long.

“There’s a park up ahead,” Cas whispers, finally. “There, I guess.”

Dean nods and does as he says, driving until he sees the sign for the park, and then pulling into the abandoned parking lot. He doesn’t cut the engine, but rather lets it sit for a bit, and eventually, slowly, looks over at Cas.

Rather than staring down at his knees, as Dean expected him to be, Cas is staring right at Dean. It’s weird, though. He’s looking at Dean in a way that looks like he expects it to be  _ the last time.  _ As soon as Dean realizes this, he starts to open his mouth, but Cas beats him to it.

“Lucifer wants me to break up with you,” he whispers, then immediately looks away.

“I know,” Dean admits, just as softly. It almosts gets drowned out by the murmur of the engine. “He, uh, expressed it to me earlier, that he thinks I’m not good enough for you.”

Dean watches as Cas’ eyes get wet, and he reaches up to wipe at tears that start to drip, a little too quickly. God, it’s heartbreaking. He looks so sad, the way his eyes get all red, and his cheeks get pink, and his nose… Dean feels a sharp pain in his chest, knowing that he had caused this, on some level.

“I don’t want to break up, Cas,” Dean hisses, hating the way it sounds almost like he’s begging. “I don’t-- I only want you. You know that.”

Cas nods, sniffling gently against his hand, wiping at his nose. The way he positioned his body against the door, it makes Dean freeze, seeing him literally blocking himself into the corner. His arm wrapped around himself, tight against the door, and  _ crying?  _ Fuck.

Carefully, so as not to scare him, Dean leans away. He gets quiet, and thinks about what he’s going to say next, how the heck he can get Cas to not think he’s going to hit him, or something. First, maybe to get him to stop crying. Second, probably make him tell Dean what the heck he wants to say.

“Deep breaths, Cas,” Dean whispers, and again Cas nods.

“Sorry,” he mumbles, but more tears leak out as he visibly tries to blink them away.

“You don’t have to apologize…” Dean tries, but it disappears as soon as he tries to scold him. “Sorry, that’ll probably make you apologize more and yeah, uh,” Dean smiles, which actually makes Cas laugh through his tears. “I just want you to calm down, that’s all.”

“I’m trying,” Cas smiles, wiping at his wet cheeks with his sleeve. 

“I know you are,” Dean smiles back. “Take your time.”

Cas sits back and sniffles, silently thinking. A few times he reaches up to wipe at his nose, or his eyes after a few stray tears find their way down his cheeks again. Even when Dean is ready to ask him what’s up again, he refrains. He wants Cas to think about his thoughts, rather than blow up again.

“Um…” Cas starts, the sound coming out as more of a  _ hmmm,  _ like he’s still thinking. “I haven’t dated like… really good people. Um. And you’re so amazing, I think that everyone just thinks you’re going to turn into some horrible monster that I know you’re not.” He shakes his head.

He sniffles again, reaching up to swipe at his nose.

“Lucifer hates everyone, but what he said really hurt,” Cas whispers. “He made it seem like I couldn’t think for myself, like I’ve been so… so fucked up by my dad that I’m literally 12 years old still. Like--” Cas twitches his gaze up to Dean, and Dean watches Cas’ fists tightening. “Like he thinks I’m still so messed up that I can’t see a good person from a terrible person. I’ve  _ dated  _ bad people, I can tell when…”

Again, he trails off and bites his lip. There’s a part of him that knows what he should say next, about those people he’s dated, but Dean can see he doesn’t want to do that. Before Dean can even begin to tell him it’s okay, Cas opens his mouth again. 

“I dated this girl in high school,” Cas whispers. “She was friends with Lucifer and so I was her friend too, sort of. Um… I knew I was probably gay but it was like, that stage where I didn’t really want to admit it to myself. So, she asked me out and I said okay.

“We dated for awhile but didn’t  _ do  _ anything because the idea totally freaked me out. I realized more and more that I was really not straight, but I didn’t know how to tell her because of my dad being… him.” Cas shrugs. “I didn’t want to have sex with her, but I did anyway ‘cause it just seemed so… important? I don’t even know anymore.”

Cas sighs.

“I told her I was gay afterward, and it was like I’d personally cursed her future children,” Cas deflates in defeat. “She started… I guess I would say bullying, because she didn’t exactly hit me all the time or anything. She just kind of… made fun of me and stuff?” He shrugs again, and Dean sees now that his tears have completely stopped.

“Lucifer reminded me of that just now, like saying that you smoking is ‘red flag’ when it’s not.” Cas rolls his eyes. “He wants to control me and make all my decisions for me.”

Dean nods, taking a deep breath, mostly in relief. He went into this completely believing he’d be breaking up with Cas, though in actuality he should have known it wouldn’t happen. Cas wants to be with Dean, he’s made that completely clear already. 

A part of him almost wants to suggest telling everyone that they did break up, to prove how cool Dean is with Cas making decisions and being his own person. He knows it’s not a good idea to even suggest it, but even so, he smiles a little and puts up his hand to hide it.

“What?” Cas asks.

“Nothing, uh…” Dean grimaces. “I was just thinking about what would happen if we told everyone we broke up, because we’d probably be exactly the same as we are now.” Dean grins and continues, “I mean we were friends before, y’know? I feel like if we take out the kissing parts and we’re just  _ really  _ good friends.”

Cas smiles back, his body relaxing a little. It’s not complete relaxation, but it’s certainly something. The smile starts to turn a little more distant the longer the silence hangs, more sad, and a little more when Cas turns back to look at Dean again.

“You knew that Lucifer didn’t know I was no longer a virgin?” He asks, voice in a whisper.

“I did, yeah,” Dean sighs. “To be fair, Gabe didn’t know we’d had sex until a couple days ago when he heard us… Um. After we had sex the first time and I asked Gabe if he’d be pissed if I were dating you, he said your brothers didn’t actually know you weren’t a virgin…” Dean trails off, realizing he doesn’t actually know why Cas asked him this in the first place. His eyes connect to Cas’ again, and he waits.

“They were afraid that if we had sex, you’d hurt me,” Cas says softly. “Fucking hell, Lucifer actually  _ said that  _ to me.” He shakes his head hard, and Dean feels his heart drop into his stomach. “I told them all that I’m not some kid, that I’ve had sex before and with you, too, and that’s when Lucifer freaked. 

“That’s when he told me to break up with you, that I’ve become a different person for dating you, which doesn’t make any sense. If anything I’ve become a more confident person, and if they really cared about me, they would see that.” Cas finishes in a huff, his voice becoming a little louder than he had been speaking previous.

His words and his demeanor make Dean grin, and lean into his hand that was resting on the back of the seat. Cas  _ has  _ changed since they’ve started dating, but like he said, he’s changed for good. Before he was nervous about everything, especially new people, especially taller men. Now, he’s better, more confident, able to actually speak before he’s spoken to first. 

They must see that, Dean realizes. They see their little brother, no longer needing protection, and they’re worried. They see that he doesn’t quite need them as much as he did years ago, and they’re grasping at straws. 

Dean sighs gently, glancing down at the leather seat as he thinks about what to say.

“I think they do care, and that’s why they’re trying so hard to keep you,” Dean whispers, glancing back up at Cas. “It doesn’t excuse what Lucifer’s said, but it does explain it, a bit. He’s worried you won’t need him anymore.”

“I guess that makes sense,” Cas nods, then he deflates again. “I couldn’t even tell him to shove it, I almost started crying.” He rolls his eyes at himself and leans back against the seat. “Maybe I haven’t really changed completely, yet.”

“Arguments are hard when both parties think they’re right,” Dean whispers, immediately sighing. “My dad used to say that.”

Cas slides over the seat and reaches for Dean’s hand. He realizes how cold Cas is, which makes him suggest that they go back home.

“I’m not sure I want to,” Cas whispers into the space between them. “What if we just left? Like we just kept driving.”

“I mean, we could,” Dean replies, leaning in just a bit so their foreheads touch. “Just the open road in front of us. No one to tell us what to do.”

Cas smiles, waiting a moment before bursting the bubble.

“My mom would freak out,” Cas says, the smile still on his face. “And Gabe…”

“Yeah, maybe not such a good idea after all,” Dean smiles back, reaching down to touch Cas’ waist. 

Cas reacts to the touch by bringing his own hand up to touch Dean’s cheek, pulling him in for a kiss. It’s gentle, soft, and Dean sighs against it, resting his forehead more comfortably against Cas’ when they break.

“I love you,” Dean whispers, in the quiet. 

Cas drops his hand from Dean’s cheek to rest it on his shoulder instead, moving it to his neck and then sliding it back down his chest. A soft breath tickles Dean’s lips, and he realizes Cas is smiling.

“I love you, too,” Cas whispers back, taking a deep breath and leaning back.

Dean leans his arm into the back of the seat again, once more resting his head into his hand. Cas was looking down at his hands in his lap, face full of ideas that Dean can only imagine what he’s thinking. He can’t help repeating back in his mind what Cas said to him,  _ what if we just left? _

“I guess I should tell them… something,” Cas whispers, and Dean nods. “To leave me alone, or something.”

“You could try explaining that you can make your own decisions,” Dean offers, shrugging a little. 

Cas continues to stare down at his hands in his lap, even starting to pick at his cuticles. He’s nervous, that much is obvious. 

“I’ll be there the entire time,” Dean continues. “If you get stuck, I’ll help you out.”

Dean reaches for Cas’ hand to stop his nervous picking and that makes Cas look up at him. He mumbles his thanks, but Dean can tell he doesn’t quite want to do it. 

On the drive back, Dean drives a little slower than he did before, taking time to let Cas mellow out a bit more before the big talk. He needs to talk to his brother, whether he or Lucy want to or not. Hopefully this would help them. 

Dean can feel his heart start to pick up the pace as they near the house, and he starts to wonder if it’s truly a good idea.


	16. Back

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> been one hell of a week, sorry for delays. big surprise next chapter.

_ Growing up it all seems to one-sided _

_ Opinions all provided _

_ The future pre-decided _

_ Detached and subdivided _

_ In the mass production zone _

_ Nowhere is the dreamer or the misfit so alone _

_ (Subdivisions by Rush) _

 

\--

 

The two arrive back at Cas’ house and silently walk to the door. The quiet of the night still surrounds the house, the area, like it did before. There’s hardly any movement around the porch, and less inside, as if everyone has decided not to move or breathe. 

The second Cas opens the door, it all changes in an instant.

A gasp fills the entire room as they walk into the living room to see everyone staring, wide-eyed. Cas crosses his arms over his chest, ducking his head a little when Lucy rises to his feet. The look on Lucy’s face tells Dean he wants to protest, and as if the rage hidden in his eyes wasn’t enough, he opens his mouth to speak.

“I thought you would have left by now,” Lucy states, directed towards Dean. The tone in his voice was one that didn’t want to cause an argument. Before Dean can say anything, Cas beats him to it.

“Why should he? He’s my boyfriend.”

“Cas, we’ve talked about this already---”

“No. We haven’t.” Cas interrupts him, voice loud enough that it makes Lucy shut up, and stay silent. Cas opens and closes his mouth once before he finds what he needs to say. “You make me feel like I can’t make any decisions for myself, like I’m not-not able to make them, or-or that I shouldn’t be allowed to have my own friends.”

Dean tenses a little with his first words. He clenches his jaw, but does his best not to make it seem like Cas said anything wrong, not that Cas was looking at him or anything. It would give Lucy or Michael or anyone else the chance to tag onto his insecurity in Cas’ strength, if they see his expression doubting Cas at all. 

A very big part of him wishes he had spoken with Cas about this, not to go into this accusing Lucy of what he’s done, but rather Cas trying to use his feelings to justify the statement of what he needs Lucy to do. The little therapy Dean has had covered that much. Using “I feel” statements over accusatory ones. 

Of course, sometimes “I feel” statements don’t go very well, and people try to use the feelings to turn the statement back around, to make it seem like they shouldn’t use those words to get what they want. Abusers did that. Dean wonders, briefly, if Lucy would do that.

“Well, there is a reason for that,” Lucy shakes his head. “That girl you dated--”

“She was your friend first,” Cas interrupts again. “And Dean is a good person, not that you seem to understand since you keep yelling at him for things.”

“I’m  _ trying  _ to protect you, Castiel,” Lucy spits back, hand pressing against his own chest. “His father is an abusive drunkard, you shouldn’t be spending time with a guy that could do the same thing---”

“How  _ dare  _ you?” Cas interrupts, loudly. 

This time, he isn’t disturbed by his energy, or by his volume. Lucy does stop, his own surprise more evident on his face. In contrast, Cas looks so incredibly pissed off, it fills Dean with a little bit of pride (and maybe turns him on quite a bit).

“I don’t understand why you’re so worried about him becoming abusive,” Cas continues, a little more quietly, but not by much, “maybe you should be worried about me. Who’s to say I won’t become like Dad?”

The question hangs heavily, and Dean watches as Lucy lets out an angry breath. The glare in his eyes sends a shiver down Dean’s spine, the look of disappointment and fear filling Lucy’s expression.

Dean’s gaze twitches towards Cas, who has the same, unwavering expression as before. His lips are tight and his eyes are holding still. Maybe he has thought this through. Maybe he knows exactly how to get what he wants.

“I know you won’t,” Lucy shakes his head.

“How?” Cas moves his hands up slightly, palms up, in a kind of  _ explain to me  _ gesture.

“I know you,” Lucy shakes his head just once.

“And I know Dean,” Cas’ voice comes out a little more gently, but no less full of energy, full of strength. “He’s a good person, Lucifer.”

He doesn’t look convinced, Dean has to admit. For a brief second, Dean considers just walking out. He wonders if this is worth it, to spend time trying to convince people of things that will never happen. Maybe disappearing into the night was a good idea, and he should take Cas by the hand, straight up walk out, never to return. 

The fleeting thought doesn’t get very far. If Dean did do that, he would be doing exactly what his father did. Go out into the open road, never have a real home, never feel safe. It’s definitely not a good plan. Deciding to stay was doing the exact opposite of his father. It makes his feet settle a little more firmly into the ground, and Dean holds his head up a little higher.

“What do you need to know to convince you?” Dean asks, albeit a little too soft. It doesn’t matter, though, everyone heard him.

Lucy seems to consider the question, but he doesn’t say anything.

“Do you want to hear my life’s story or see some of my scars when he got creative?” Dean asks, cocking his head a little. “Or hell, slam a door and watch me jump straight out of my shoes. Shoot a gun and watch me piss myself in fear.”

The room is completely silent, and it scares Dean quite a lot. Silence was worse than loud, sudden noises. If he weren’t already at the one place in the room with access to the exit, he’s sure he’d be trying to get there right now. 

“Just the  _ idea  _ of it, you saying the possibility that I could hurt Cas, that makes me sick. It genuinely makes me want to throw up.” Dean can feel the emotion bubbling at the back of his throat, and he does his best to cool down in the split second he gets to take a breath. “I don’t want to hurt anyone. I’ve had to protect my brother from so much that I never want to have to do any of that again.

“I can understand all of your fears, believe me. I’m an older brother, too, but I can’t see Sam like you can see Cas.” Dean looks at Lucy, watching his eyes search his own. In the split second of silence, Dean shrugs a bit. “Don’t you think you Cas deserves to be happy?”

Lucy scoffs, the moment broken.

“You’re the one that’s deciding that, then?” Lucy rolls his eyes, but Dean is quick to retaliate.

“Of course not,” Dean spits back. “But you’ve seen him,” he gestures slightly to Cas, as always careful not to move his hands too fast. “When I first met him he wouldn’t even look at me, he could barely even talk to me. He’s different now, more confident, and  _ actually  _ happy. You can tell just by looking at him, and hey! Maybe it’s not me. Maybe it’s something else, but whatever is making him happy, I think you allow him the freedom to choose.”

Lucy waits. He stares at Dean with the same look for about five terribly long seconds before he glances at Cas once more. His eyes search Cas’ face for some kind of answer, one that he seems to find eventually. His gaze softens as he stares at Cas, but hardens once more when he turns to look at Dean again.

“If you hurt him, you’re gonna have me to answer to,” Lucifer muters, defeated, and Dean accepts it as a win.

“Fair enough,” Dean nods back.

He’s reached a point now where he never wants to hurt Cas, even unintentionally. Of course he acknowledges that it could happen, it's entirely probable that he could accidentally do something which scares Cas or hurts him emotionally. Every action, every breath, every thought, it’s carefully planned to acknowledge Cas. If Dean ever does hurt Cas, he knows exactly how to fix it. He will do  _anything_ to fix the problem, to apologize, to earn Cas' trust again. Anything. Everything. He doesn't want to lose Cas over something stupid, something he could have prevented.

Cas exists in his world, Cas is apart of his world so fully and completely that he wants to change everything to keep Cas in it. If that meant dealing with his brothers like this, so be it. Dean would do anything to keep Cas in his life, there was no denying that.

Later that night when they got the chance to escape, Cas pulled Dean into his room by his hand, stopping just inside the doorway to lean in close. Rather than kissing him (which is what usually happened when they got a moment alone), Cas merely steps into a hug that Dean was quick to give. 

Dean wraps his arms tightly around Cas, adjusting a little when Cas shivers, his fingers tightening against Dean’s back. Even with Cas’ face in his chest, Dean knows Cas is still worried, although more relieved than he had been earlier.

“Sorry for my family,” Cas whispers against his chest, which makes Dean immediately make a noise that sounds a lot like a giggle. Cas pulls away to make a face at him.

“They’re not so bad,” Dean grins.

“Sure,” Cas rolls his eyes. This time he steps away and starts taking his clothes off, starting with his socks, and finishing with his pants.

Dean follows suit, except he takes his shirt off, then his pants, and puts on a pair of flannel pajama pants instead. After their nightly rituals of brushing teeth and what-have-you, they settle down in bed for a Christmas Eve sleep, only it doesn’t start that quickly.

Rolling onto his side, Dean watches Cas watching him in the darkness. The light from the streetlamps outside are casting strange shadows over his face, and Dean is sure the same thing is happening to him. His eyes start to get heavy much too quickly, and Dean finds himself falling asleep way faster than he wanted.


End file.
